


Guardian

by GingerEl



Series: Ink and Feather [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Backstory Prompto Argentum, Angst, Aromantic Cor Leonis, Asexual Cor Leonis, Child Prompto Argentum, Coparenting, Dad Cor Week (Final Fantasy XV), Family Dynamics, Family Fluff, Fluff, Found Family, Growing Up, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Minor Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum, No Magic AU, No War AU, Parent Cor Leonis, Vomiting, dad cor, hurt comfort, implied/references child neglect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:33:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27262798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerEl/pseuds/GingerEl
Summary: When Cor got the tip that Niflheim was building it’s army up again he assembles his team and heads out to take down this new facility.But he never expected -They can fix this, get the kids out, get them safe, get the back to whatever family they have and Cor can put this entire thing behind him.Except for the one kid with no name and nowhere to go. Except for him.Niflheim’s newest leader glares at him over his desk.“What gives you the right to take an Imperial child away from his country?”“Nothing,” Cor says, “But I’m going to do it anyway.”Alternatively: When Monica and Cor recover eight year old Prompto from his ‘training’ facility they do not surrender him up to Niflheim’s care and instead bring him back to Insomnia and co-parent the heck out of that little sunbeam.[Technically an AU of my Ink and Feather series but no knowledge of that is necessary and this can be enjoyed as pure Dad Cor sweetness.]
Relationships: Monica Elshett & Cor Leonis, Prompto Argentum & Cor Leonis
Series: Ink and Feather [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661995
Comments: 25
Kudos: 149
Collections: Dad Cor Week 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! This was a project I've had in mind for a while and I was finally encouraged to get it done when I saw the prompts for Dad Cor week. I'm disappointed I didn't get it up in time, but pretty pleased with what I managed to create. 
> 
> This is AU of my own AU Ink and Feather but will work completely by itself without that series for context - though if you have read that there are some little references you will hopefully enjoy.  
> If you do have any plans to read the series however be aware that this does have a spoiler for Prompto's origin that is only revealed to Gladio late in Saturation and then a new piece of information that Prompto only learns in the most recent update of Exposure. I don't think knowing the information ahead of reading those will lessen your enjoyment of them, however. Please head rating and tags though if you head that way.

1.

“ _Cor.”_

Monica’s voice crackles over the radio clipped at his hip.

Cor wants to respond, he does, but he’s currently looking at a room full of squirming babies set up in _cold_ bassinets. No less than twelve of them, Cor thinks, each with a little monitor clipped to the end of their bed and some contraption strapped to their hands feeding information to the monitor.

“ _Cor … Marshal, sir. I need guidance. The soldiers. They’re children -”_

Cor clenches his jaw against an angry shout.

The soldiers are _children_. The war is long over now but Cor had fought in it, he’d killed so many Imperial troops.

How many of them had started life like this?

-

Cor helps organise the lines of _children_.

He doesn’t really need to and several of the soldiers have reminded him it’s below his pay grade but it’s not like he'd manage sleep right now. Not when there’s so many of these lost children needing to be sent home.

The bar code’s on their wrists are _awful_ \- barbaric and heinous and unforgivable - but Cor will begrudgingly admit they serve a purpose. One of their tech guys had teamed up with one of the Niff conspirators and now they’ve got a few dozen tablets up and running and one little scan of a wrist is helping to send these kids _home_.

Or whatever the closest thing they have to a home now.

A lot of them have got dead parents - _a lot_ of them - but they have extended families to reunite them with. Grandparents, uncles, aunts, siblings, cousins - whatever they can find. Every minute a ‘Glaive successfully makes contact with living relatives and finds these kids a place to stay.

Niflheim is being _cooperative_ right now.

They don’t really have a choice in the matter, Cor realises. Cor has only _briefly_ checked in with Regis about this and while the King is busy in Tenebrae caring for Noctis after a difficult surgery Regis had made it _very clear_ that if Niflheim did not completely dismantle the operation then he would work with other leaders to bring the full force of Eos down upon them to make it so.

Give up the kids or start another war.

That's the ultimatum.

And while Niflheim seems to have come along way in _rebuilding_ their army this assembled group of kids would do nothing in an actual war.

If the rest of the world could bring themselves to fight them, now that they know.

Cor doesn’t know that _he_ could.

Monica gives him a nod as he approaches and but he’s known her long enough to be able to spot the small wobble in the flat line of her mouth and the way she’s gripping the tablet just a little _too_ tight. Monica won’t ever say it, not here and now, maybe not even to him, but she’s struggling.

Cor can’t blame her. Cor has been to wars, has walked battlefields after skirmishes where there were heavy losses on both sides but even so - he thinks this might be the hardest thing he’s ever seen.

A girl that can’t be older than eight approaches Monica next, raising her arm nervously for inspection. She’s already got her pale hair cropped close to her head even though some of the obviously older girls are still wearing it long. Cor wonders what logic the people that run this place use to decide what happens and when before quickly deciding he actually _doesn’t_ want to know.

They’re _experimenting_ on these kids. There’s no other word for it.

It’s not training, or raising, or educating. It’s experimenting.

Cor’s not going to let them get away with this, not Verstael Besithia and not any of the scientists at the top of the chain who stood a chance at putting a stop to what was going on here.

Monica reads over the information on her screen and asks, “Arianna?”

She freezes up tight, the little girl, and her bottom lip quivers. Cor thinks she’s going to be able to keep it together but Arianna suddenly inhales and lets lose a gut wrenching sob, big fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

Monica makes a half step towards her and then says, “It’s alright. We’re going to get you home now. It’s going to be okay.”

Arianna nods and scrubs at her face with her hands.

Cor jerks his head at the soldier nearby, a little ashamed to realise he doesn’t know their name. They’re a Glaive and relatively new, this is probably an awful first overseas mission for them but at least there’s no chance of them dying, Cor supposes.

Cor glances at Monica’s tablet, sees the city from which Arianna was _taken_ and tells the soldier, “Transport 3A.”

“Almost full, sir,” they warn him.

“I know. I’ve called for more and they’re sending some as soon as possible,” Cor says, “The government is trying to pretend they didn’t know this was still happening so they’re being very _accommodating_.”

They’re lying of course, but Cor’s not willing to really pick a fight over it until all these kids are safe.

Regis will handle all of that. Cor just needs to do his job, make everyone _safe_ and then put in his report so Regis has all the information he needs to make a decision about how to proceed.

He hopes Regis gives them hell.

Monica directs two more children towards transports, the second of which actually falls to his knees under the weight of hearing his name. They’d understood that the kids were separated by these codes but the idea they were _called_ these things, that their identities were stripped away from them in favour of being branded like goods in a supermarket -

Cor will never stop being angry about it.

The Empire has done a lot of foul things in it’s bid for power but this might very well be the worst.

The next boy is _small_.

He must be the same age as the others in his group but he looks younger somehow, narrow shoulders and underfed in a way that seems more obviously severe than the others.

The kid holds up his wrist and Monica passes the scanner over it and Cor’s too busy looking at the kid - _shit_ he looks _cold, Cor_ should have gotten blankets or something - to look at the screen and understand why Monica suddenly says -

“I don’t think it worked.”

The kid's face falls, mouth dropping from its bland flat line to a genuine frown and his eyes fill with tears. They don’t brim over though, just gather against his bottom lashes, blue eyes glistening.

“Lets try again,” Monica says kindly and the kid raises his arm again. She scans and the tablet beeps but Monica says, “Sir? Cor, you need to see this?”

The kid starts to panic, breath shallow and short, hands trembling so Cor is totally fine when Monica shoves the tablet into his hands and drops onto her knees to attempt to calm the little guy down.

“Hey, hey,” Cor listens to Monica say, “You’re okay. Do you know what your name is?”

There’s no answer from the kid and Cor finds himself speechless too as he scrolls through the information in front of him.

_ID Number: N-iP01357 - 05953234_

_Group: 735 B_

_Scores: 62 | 46 | 98 | 91 | 73 | 71_

_DOB: 25/10/735_

_Birthplace: Facility A_

_Father: Security Clearance Level 5 Required_

_Mother: Security Clearance Level 5 Required_

_Birth Name: N/A_

“Your name?” Monica urges him, “What do they call you…”

He doesn’t have one, Cor realises.

But the kid sounds relieved when he pulls in a shaky breath and in voice rough from obvious disuse he starts to say, “N-iP013 -”

“No, no,” Monica interrupts which is fair because Cor can’t bear to hear the kids refer to themselves by ID _numbers_ either but Cor looks up in time to see the boy’s face pinch and the little colour he has drain alarmingly fast. Maybe they should have let him finish.

“Before you came here. What were you called before you came here.”

A couple of those tears spill from his eyes, “I’ve always been here.”

“Monica,” Cor says as he squats down at her side to hand her back the tablet.

The boy’s eyes snap to his as he continues to tremble in the snow - whether that’s from the cold or because he’s worried is impossible to tell. Cor tries to smile, to soften the lines of a face that he’s often heard called _severe_ behind his back and he can’t tell if it works but the kid certainly doesn’t seem _worse_ so that’s something.

“This can’t be right,” Monica whispers, “How is this right?”

Cor shakes his head and then reaches to gently ruffle the kids short hair. He tenses at first, eyes squeezed tight shut but as the bristly strands of his hair are shifted by Cor's fingers the kid shudders, relaxing and leaning into Cor’s touch.

“We won’t know until we get into the system properly,” Cor tells her. They need to find a way to get access to whatever is hidden behind _Security Clearance Level 5_ and with every scientist within the facility currently in custody it shouldn’t take long.

“Where do we send him if he - if he didn’t come from anywhere?” Monica asks.

The kid tenses right up under his hand again and Cor rubs a little harder to try and get him to relax.

What he says next might be the wrong decision but it’s what his gut is telling him to do and his gut rarely leads him astray.

“I’m going to Gralea. If he really doesn’t have anywhere else to go that may be the best place for him.”

It’s the capital after all, the main hub. If they manage to find parents under that barrier then they’re more likely to be in Gralea than anywhere else. And if they _can’t_ find somewhere for him to go? Well, Cor’s gut is demanding they keep him close.

He goes where Cor goes. Until Cor can make him _safe_.

“I hope you’re right,” Monica breathes.

“Me too,” Cor says. He straightens up, keeping his hand on - on the kid’s head and turns to his colleague and friend, “Monica? Think of a name for him, he can’t go on thinking that's what he is any longer.”

Monica nods, two jerky bobs of her head and they both turn when a throat is cleared just behind them.

“Sir?” a soldier says - the one that took the girl before, “Your transport to Gralea is ready. And there’s a spare seat for Ms Elshett if you would like us to take over here.” He gestures at his companion, a young recruit Cor _does_ know by name.

“And the child?” Monica says and her hand joins Cor’s on his head, around the back so her fingers barely touch Cor’s.

“He might have to ride on a lap,” Delilah answers, “There’s a group of children in there it was deemed prudent to transport immediately.”

Cor raises an eyebrow.

“Some health concerns, sir. Nothing life threatening but -”

“Best to get them out of the snow,” Monica finishes.

Both the soldiers nod and Monica passes off the tablet.

“If you get any children whose details are locked behind a security wall contact us immediately.”

Delilah looks confused but she only says, “Yes, ma’am.”

Monica moves her hand from the kid’s head and holds it out to him. He squints at it and Cor thinks they might have to explain what they want but after a few _long_ seconds he raises his little hand and presses it to Monica’s palm.

“Let’s get out of here.”

-

Monica’s been looking at names for the kid the entire ride, throwing some out every so often like she’s hoping one will spark some kind of memory in him. The kid’s barely responded, like he doesn’t even really understand names _at all_.

A couple hours into the ride he falls asleep against Cor’s chest.

Cor scrolls through the bits of the system he has access to, trying to put context to the numbers in the kids’ scores section.

“Perry? No. Prompto?”

It’s a complete coincidence but the kid does choose that moment to wake up, shooting off Cor’s chest with a sharp but silent inhale the moment his eyes pop open.

Cor wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d panicked, it’s actually more disconcerting the way he lies perfectly still, breathing a little heavy like he’s _waiting_ for something.

Monica shifts and the kid flinches like -

Like he’s waiting to be hit.

“You’re okay,” Cor murmurs without thinking, “You’re not going to be hurt. We’re taking you away from that place? Remember?”

Limbs are still rigid the kid nods.

“Prompto?” Monica says again, “How do you feel about that as a name? Prompto?”

The kid looks between them with wide eyes and then nods. Cor is pretty sure he just doesn't understand but something about the name sits will with Cor at least.

“Cor?” Monica checks with him like he deserves an opinion for some reason.

“As good a name as any,” Cor says.

“Okay. So, Prompto. When we say that from now on we’re talking about you, do you understand?”

 _Prompto_ gives another little nod and Monica grins.

“Can you try saying it for me?”

Prompto relaxes his limbs enough to shift about a little and Cor adjusts him on his lap. Kid seemingly weighs _nothing_ and Cor can’t wait to get some decent food into him. If such a thing even exists in this frozen hell scape of a country.

“P-promp-to,” he manages, his voice uncertain and rough again.

“Good,” Monica says, smiling again and Prompto’s cheek half lifts in the closest thing they’ve seen to happiness yet, “That was really good, Prompto. Thank you.”

Prompto blinks sleepily and even though he obviously tries to keep it in check his mouth spreads wide in a yawn.

“Why don’t you get some more sleep?” Cor tells him.

Prompto blinks and then points out the window to where it’s obviously still bright outside.

“From now on,” Monica starts and Prompto’s eyes snap round to her, “You can sleep whenever you’re tired, alright?”

Prompto’s mouth pops open and he looks between them rapidly, face swinging back and forth.

“If you’re tired you should sleep,” Cor reiterates.

It’s doesn’t sound as caring as Cor would have liked it but something about the way Cor phrases it - perhaps the edge of an order in it - that makes Prompto relax further in his lap. Prompto hesitates before placing his head against Cor’s chest again, looking up at him with wide violet tinted blue eyes.

Cor gently cups the back of his head and encourages Prompto to recline against him by stroking over his hair again. Prompto sinks into him and is asleep in moments. Cor keeps petting his hair.

“He’s a sweetheart,” Monica says, “I wish he wasn’t so frightened. Did you find anything out?”

“Nothing good,” Cor says and he passes her the tablet, using that hand to support Prompto’s back too once it's free.

“The kid - Prompto, he’s fast and smart but not very good at combat unless it involves a gun.”

“A gun?” Monica repeats, “He’s _eight_.”

Cor makes a soft noise of disgust. Yeah, it’s fucking awful.

Prompto’s small for eight, he thinks. Cor doesn’t really have a basis for that outside of watching Gladio, Noctis and Ignis grow up but Prompto's definitely small. It’s been a while since he’s seen Noctis but he thinks Prompto’s smaller than him even, and they always said that Noctis was small for his age.

“They’ve not been feeding him right,” Cor tells her.

“I can’t imagine the food in there is anything but awful,” Monica says.

“No I mean literally. They’ve not been giving him an adequate number of calories everyday. There’s a report attached to his file.”

Monica turns her focus on the tablet, frown deepening every time she touches the screen and takes in more information.

“Astrals. A _slow metabolism_ \- what on Eos?”

“I know,” Cor says and something compels him to hold Prompto a little tighter.

-

Monica is generally better at playing nice with people than Cor but one of them has to stay with Prompto and unfortunately he technically outranks her.

“Verstael Besithia is our leading scientist -”

“And he’s responsible for the imprisonment, torture and assumed kidnapping of _hundreds_ of children. Maybe thousands.”

One of whom was his own son. His _own_ son.

Monica had read it first, she’d still had the tablet in hand when the system had become unlocked just an hour away from Gralea. She’d sworn so loudly that the Glaive in the back of the van had turned to look in shock and Prompto had shifted around in his sleep.

 _All_ the children were asleep by then and Cor doesn’t know if that was the boredom of such a long ride or they were all just _so tired_ from everything they’d been through.

When the war had ended and the Emperor had been _removed_ from his throne and Niflheim had installed a democratic government overseen by a head of state. It should have made things better but this figurehead has the same brand of assholes whispering in his ear as the Emperor did. Cor would be lying if he said he was _truly_ surprised something like this had been going on under the new government’s nose.

“As I said before we had no idea such a thing was -”

“And I’m sure you wouldn’t want anyone to think you approved of his actions by leaving him free to go about his business,” Cor cuts across again.

The head of state frowns and gestures wide with his hands, “And what is it you suggest I do?”

“Lock him up,” Cor says immediately, “Let him rot in prison for everything that he’s done. And if you won’t do it then I’m sure Lucis, Tenebrae or Accordo will be more than happy to step him and take him in to custody on the ground of these obvious war crimes.”

“Is that a threat?” one of the advisers all but hisses from his position along the wall.

“Do what’s right for once and it won’t be,” Cor says.

The Imperial leader raises his hand to ward off and argument and sighs.

“Very well,” he says, “Now about the child.”

“Which one,” Cor asks even though he knows it’s Prompto. Knew that as soon as his side knew they had Besithia’s son in their grasp the other would too. And that they’d want him back.

“The Besithia boy,” the Prime Minister snaps.

“What do you plan to do with him?” Cor asks.

“Take care of him the way we will all the other unfortunate children with no living relatives.”

Cor huffs, “Which means?”

“They will be placed into the foster system and raised in suitable temporary accommodation until such a time when they are welcomed into permanent homes.”

“That’s it?” Cor asks in disbelief, “That’s your big plan for rehabilitating abused children. Stick them in foster care?”

“That’s not _it_ , no. But the gist. Certainly.”

“And you think Verstael Besithia’s son will flourish in this system? Be safe even?” There’s an ache in Cor’s jaw and he realises he’s been grinding his teeth through this entire conversation.

“We would hide his identity of course,” one of the others chimes in and Cor begrudgingly looks at them while they talk, “Not even _he_ would know who he is. Not until such a time it seemed appropriate to tell him.”

A time when they can get something out of it, Cor assumes.

“Or I could take him to Lucis where he actually stands a chance of living anonymously and happily,” Cor says.

The idea _surprises_ him. The plan had been to get him to Gralea, to put him somewhere safe that would be as close to a home as possible and then be on his way.

But that feels _wrong_ now.

It makes his gut turn over in a bad way. Makes him _worried_.

When they’d gotten in the van he’d just been a kid with no name and no home but now he’s _Prompto_ and Cor and Monica had carried him from the car, helped him drink some water and then fed him his first _banana_ of all things.

Word had filtered back to them about the weird gruel like food the kids ate for most meals and the _nutrition bars_ they were fed when they weren’t eating in a dining hall. Of course the information had spread like wildfire through the ranks and Cor knew that the nicer food in the transports was probably being divvied out to all the kids even now. Chocolate covered raisins and the hard biscuits that seem terrible when you’re used to halfway decent food but are probably decadent to kids raised mostly on _gruel_.

Prompto had gotten all choked up about the snack, unable to describe what was upsetting him so much about the fruit. He’d been obviously guilt ridden and nervous when he’d gotten full after just half of it, staring at it with both longing and fear.

Cor had told him it didn’t matter, that it would be there later for him to finish or not if that’s what he wanted. But it wasn’t until Monica had wrapped it in plastic for him and showed him her putting it into her bag for later that he’d calmed down.

Cor had scooped him up without bothering to ask, balancing him against his hip and tucking Prompto's head into his neck until his little wet hiccups had subsided.

“What gives you the right to take an Imperial child away from his country?”

“Nothing,” Cor says, “But I’m going to do it anyway.”

\- - -

They’d bought Prompto new clothes from a little shop in Gralea just a stones throw away from Gralea’s Town Hall, helping him change into them in the now empty transport vehicle. Monica had almost gotten overwhelmed again by seeing how fascinated he was by the soft texture of the little navy sweater Monica had picked out for him.

“He’s been in those jumpsuits all his life,” Monica had whispered to him and even Cor had been affected by that. Cor dresses the same every day, has no interest in clothes other than what he already wears but at least he has a _choice_.

Prompto hadn’t even been able to make a choice when confronted with one.

Monica had patiently asked him what he _liked_ and Prompto had shaken his head, trembling and moved to hide behind Cor’s legs.

Monica had picked out enough things to see Prompto safely to Insomnia and Cor had taken Prompto back out of the shop, settled on his hip again and tried to find something that wasn’t covered in grey slushy snow for Prompto to look at while they waited for her to complete the transaction.

Cor can get him to safety in Insomnia where things will be better. The Crown can set him up with a _good_ foster family that’ll take good care of him and Cor can personally see to it that Prompto gets the help he needs to adjusts to his new life.

And maybe if the parents don’t mind Cor can still see him from time to time. Watch him grow up into a person that’s enduring memories are not of a training facility that no human should ever experience - let alone a child.

How had this happened? How had no one noticed the kids going missing?

Cor had thought Prompto was sleeping, tucked up on a cot under no less than three blankets, gifted from soldiers that had come over concerned when they'd seen Monica attempt to settle him down for sleep.

It is painfully obvious now that Prompto’s just pretending.

His cheeks are damp over sparse freckles and now Cor’s actually _looking_ at him he can see that his small frame is shaking with little trembles as he obviously tries to keep himself quiet.

Cor slides off his chair to kneel down beside the cot and places his hand on Prompto’s back over the blankets.

Prompto freezes like he had in the transport, limbs all tight and tense so Cor makes his best version of a low, soothing noise. Prompto’s eyes crack open a sliver and then squeeze tight once more.

“Hey, you’re safe,” Cor murmurs, “You know what that means, yeah? We’re not going to hurt you or anything?”

Cor has no idea where Monica got to but he suddenly feels bereft without her.

He’s not good at this, he’s not good at _feelings_. Cor’s not particularly good at solving things that need more than a few good swings of his katana. He’s just not equipped to deal with a distressed child.

Prompto’s eyes open again and Cor can tell by the wariness there that he very much does _not_ understand the concept of an adult not hurting him.

“Shit, kid,” Cor says and then it feel really important to remind him, “ _Prompto_. Come on. Let’s get up. Are you thirsty?”

Prompto’s eyebrows draw together and Cor rephrases his question.

“You remember the drink you had with your dinner earlier? You want another?”

Prompto’s eyes widen and then slowly he nods, cheek brushing against the little pillow they’d found for him.

Cor leans back a little and Prompto sits himself up, rubbing the sleeve of his sweater across his damp face. Cor should have done that for him and feels _bad_ that he didn’t.

“Come here,” Cor says, opening his arms and Prompto only hesitates a second before leaning into him, skinny little arms over Cor’s shoulders so the Marshal can lift him off the bed, holding him against his chest with an arm under his thighs. Cor makes sure Prompto’s secure and then reaches down for one of the blankets, carefully wrapping it over Prompto’s shoulders to keep him warm.

Prompto tucks his face against Cor’s neck and he can feel the soft brush of his eyelashes as he blinks.

Heads turn as Cor makes his way out of the sleeping area of the barracks and towards the mess hall. Mostly they’ve all been working the same shifts but a few of the soldiers who remained behind to guard the base today are still up and about, milling around to clear up the stuff from dinner or grab another snack.

“Sir,” one of the says as he passes.

“Have you seen Monica?” Cor asks and he hitches Prompto a little higher up his torso.

“She was trying to get hold of her wife,” they say, “Do you want me to get her for you?”

Cor shakes his head, “I’ll get her when she’s done.”

“Yes, sir.”

Cor checks the chiller and is pleased to find a few cartons of orange juice still inside. It’s a struggle to free the straw from it’s little plastic wrapping on the back and puncture the hole with it without putting Prompto down but Cor makes it work. When it’s ready Cor shifts Prompto slightly to one side and holds out the carton for him.

Prompto lifts one of his hands off Cor’s shoulders and takes the carton carefully. Still shaking just a little Prompto brings the straw to his lips and draws in a large sip.

His eyes close as he drinks and something in Cor relaxes at the sight.

“Good, huh?”

Prompto nods without opening his eyes and drinks the whole thing down while barely pausing to breath.

Cor will find him a _good_ family. A really good family.

He swears.

\- - -

They stop in Duscae to refuel the transports. And themselves.

Monica procures Prompto a hat from the shop to help protect his fair skin from the unusually hot sun and Prompto seems quite content to amuse himself walking with her around the little outpost looking at the _plants_ and the little animals he spots hopping in and out of the bushes.

Right before they’re set to leave one of the guards comes trotting out of the store with a small bag in his hand. He looks around for a moment, spots Cor and rushes towards him.

“Sir?” they say.

“What is it Rowley?”

“I bought something for the kid,” he says, “Can I give it to him?”

“It’s not food is it - we’ve been having trouble with him keeping stuff down.”

The Crownsguard shakes their head, “It’s a toy.”

Cor considers that for a moment.

“Go right ahead,” Cor says, “Though don’t be offended if he won’t take it from you.”

“Not at all, sir,” they say with a half smile, “I have four little brothers, I know what they’re like.”

Cor can barely imagine that. He’d grown up alone, just him and his parents and his parents had hardly ever been there. It wasn’t chance that had him leaving at thirteen with barely a look over his shoulder as he went.

Cor gives the soldier a nod and they head off towards the van where Monica and Prompto are still stood outside - waiting for Cor no doubt. Prompto ducks behind Monica’s leg when the soldier says hello. Undaunted they pull a little yellow plush from inside the bag and hold it in Prompto’s eye line. Curiosity peaked he sneaks a look from behind Monica.

Cor sees his little mouth fall open and he tugs twice on Monica’s hand.

Monica has to be the one to hand it to him and Cor starts to make his way over as Prompto cradles the plush in his hands like it’s made of fragile spun glass and looks up at the soldier in awe. Transferring it to one palm Prompto strokes across the thin line of fuzz poking out of the top of it’s head to simulate feathers.

Prompto _trembles_.

“What you got there Prompto?” Cor asks.

Prompto holds the toy up as far as he can and Cor shows his appreciation by stroking over it’s ‘plume’ like Prompto had.

“Do you like it?” Cor asks.

Prompto considers that for a moment then nods and pulls it back down, holding it close to his chest. He looks at each of the adults in turn and then says, “W-what?”

“What is it?” the soldier asks.

Prompto goes bright red but he manages a nod.

“It’s supposed to be a chocobo,” they tell Prompto and he nods blankly.

“Do you know what a chocobo is?” Monica asks him.

Prompto shakes his head. The soldier looks like they’ve been kicked in the gut.

Cor pulls out his phone and gestures towards the truck. To Prompto he says, “Why don’t we get inside and I can show you what real ones look like?”

Prompto immediately grasps for his free hand.

It takes probably three dozen pictures for Prompto to be sated and even then Cor thinks it’s only because he gets too tired to focus. Prompto falls asleep slumped against Cor’s side just as they cross into Leide. Cor watches him sleep for a few minutes, chocobo plush tucked up tight underneath his chin and wonders if that Crownsguard might be due a promotion when they get back home.

\- - -

“How’s Noctis?” Cor asks the King.

“Tired from the journey back,” Regis says.

“And his back?”

“We’ve done everything we can,” Regis explains and though he puts on a brave face there’s no way to hide the bags under his eyes and the extra sprinkling of grey he’s picked up in his hair in the few months they’ve been apart.

“It’s just a matter of time,” Regis finishes.

Cor nods, feeling a little guilty that he hadn’t been able to be there for his friend even though Regis had explicitly tasked him with _this_ , asked him to take care of it for him. For the good of Eos.

“You look terrible,” Regis says.

Cor snorts, “You’re one to talk.”

Regis smiles.

“Tell me about the boy, the one you bought back,” Regis says.

“Not much to tell. You’ve seen his file. You know where he came from. Who he _is_ ,” Cor says.

It’s been _a lot_ the past few days and though Prompto’s travelled well - no sea sickness, no fussing on the train, no _nothing_ \- it’s still been an _adjustment,_ travelling with a child.

Monica’s been a gods send, obviously, but in the past few days he’s watched her guard herself. Pull her hands back from Prompto’s hair a little sooner, leave him be a little longer. She's stopped asking so many questions, stopped trying to draw him out of his shell so much.

Cor gets it.

They probably only have _days_ left before they get him situated somewhere.

It may only have been two weeks since they found him and only been twenty minutes or so since Cor left him in the infirmary with Monica but Cor feels his absence sharply.

“I mean what is he _like_ ,” Regis clarifies.

Cor shrugs, “He’s not talking much but he - he’s obviously frightened but he’s so brave, trusting us and doing all these new things.”

Regis smiles.

“He’s so curious,” Cor goes on, “Every time he’s amazed by something it surprises me and then I remember that the kid’s never seen a thing in his whole damn life.”

The smile dims.

“Despite the political implications of what you did I’m glad you bought him here,” Regis says.

“What do you mean?”

“Absconding with Verstael Besithia’s son after raiding what is essentially the seat of his enterprises? It looks like we’ve taken a political prisoner -”

“He was _already_ a prisoner,” Cor interrupts, “Regis you can’t honestly think he would have been better there or that we could have trusted them to take care of him -”

Regis raises his hand and Cor cuts himself off.

“I know,” Regis says kindly. His face shifts into a half-smirk as he asks, “Will you be moving out of the Citadel or would you like be moved to a larger set of rooms?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Prompto isn’t a baby, Cor, he’ll take up more space than you have in your quarters. Do you even have a _kitchen_?” Regis asks.

Is Regis implying -?

Cor can't possibly take care of Prompto himself. He's just not equipped.

Not physically, not mentally. He doesn't have enough _time_.

Kids had never been on the cards for Cor. _Family_ had never really been on the cards for Cor.

Begrudgingly he’d loved his parents, despite all their faults. Then the brothers he’d found in Regis, Clarus, Wesk and Cid mean more to him than he’d ever even attempt to put into words.

But a child?

“Monica is attached to the boy,” Cor says, “We should speak to her, see if her and Nara -”

“Will be more than willing to help, I’m sure.”

Cor clenches his jaw.

“Cor,” Regis says, “If I tell you I’m going to take Prompto away to a safe loving family _right now_ but you’ll never get to see him again. How does that make you feel?”

Bad is the answer. It makes him feel _bad_.

“Congratulations, Marshal. I think you just became a father.”

The words are barely out of Regis’ mouth when Cor’s phone blares in his pocket a borderline frantic Monica on the other end asking him to _please_ get back to the infirmary because they just tried to put Prompto into the machine for a scan and he does _not_ like it.

Cor hears a small cry reach him over the line and he’s striding from Regis’ office without a word. Regis will forgive him. He’d do the same thing if it was Noctis.

“What are they doing?” Cor asks Monica as he bursts into the room despite a nurse yelling at him to stop.

Prompto’s sat up on the end of the bed part of the body scanner, crying silently now while Monica hovers over him rubbing his back. He’s not screaming any more but watching the tears drip down his cheeks and darken his t-shirt in little splotches is more than Cor can handle.

When the door swings shut behind him Prompto looks up startled and in the most abrupt move Cor’s ever seen him make him make he flies off the end of the bed and rushes at Cor. Prompto hits his legs with surprising force and Cor has to take a half step back before he’s able to cradle the back of Prompto’s head where it’s mashed into his stomach and rub the other across his shoulders.

“Cor,” Prompto whispers, “Cor, _Cor_.”

“I got you,” Cor says, “I got you…”

Yeah, Cor isn’t letting Prompto go _anywhere_.

-

“What did Regis say?” Monica asks - whispers when they finally have Prompto settled again.

Cor tucks the blanket a little tighter around the sleeping child and tears his eyes away with some reluctance.

“He asked if I was going to move out or if I wanted bigger quarters,” Cor tells her, “For Prompto to live in.”

“To live in - with you?”

Cor nods and to his amazement Monica rears back, covering her face with both her hands.

Cor has known Monica a _long_ time. She’s been in the Crownsguard longer than he has and she was a young woman when he was snarky little kid lying on his forms to join despite only being thirteen.

He and Monica have been through a lot together, some ups but plenty of downs certainly. They’ve been together when plenty of Crownsguard have lost their lives, helped build the Kingsglaive back up when the war seemed surely lost.

But Cor has never seen her cry before.

She inhales wetly behind her hand, shoulders trembling and Cor is at a loss all over again for what to do.

“That bad of an idea, you think?”

She laughs, choking a little as the noise rises from her chest. Pulling her hands away she uses one to wipe wet trails from beneath her eyes. Monica’s _beaming_.

“I spoke to Nara,” Monica says, “I didn’t want - I couldn’t just let him go to anyone.”

She looks at him for confirmation and Cor nods, he understands that feeling well.

“You and Nara are busy,” Cor says.

“Sometimes we barely see _each other_ but I think - if you’ll let us help, the three of us could -”

“Yes,” Cor says at once and though he _rarely_ ever asks for anything he adds, “Please.”

Monica laughs again.

“He needs a last name,” Monica says, “I’d been looking up Niflheim names that had died out but I suppose Leonis will do.”

Cor looks down at Prompto, sleeping peacefully now, and says it in his mind: _Prompto Leonis_.

Yeah, that’ll do.

\- - -

“You’re buying a house?” Clarus checks.

“Are you going to help me or are you going to be an asshole about it?”

Cor had kind of forgotten Gladio was in the room with them until he laughs. Clarus gives Cor a flat look.

“He knows not to say that shit at home,” Cor grumbles.

Clarus sighs. “ _Cor_. Are you sure you’re cut out for this?”

“No,” Cor says honestly, “I don’t.”

Clarus’ expression falters, brotherly teasing to genuine concern.

“Can I meet him, the kid?” Clarus asks, “Where is he now?”

Gladio drops his book, “Can I come?”

“Monica is introducing him to Nara,” Cor says, he turns to Gladio, “Another time. Prompto’s shy.”

Gladio looks _annoyed_ by that and it’s almost enough to make Cor laugh.

\- - -

Cor buys a house.

It’s not a _big_ house but it’s a _house_. A home.

It has three bedrooms so there’s one each and a spare for Cor to turn into a little office - he wont be sitting in his Citadel office at two in the morning working on guard rotations any more. The kitchen is a good size, not that Cor can actually cook, and the living room is more than adequate for the two of them. What Cor likes most about is is the _garden_.

Cor had been in that facility, he knows that Prompto has barely spent any time outside in his little life and all of that had been under the grimy cover of a filthy glass roof.

Prompto’s going to _play_ in this garden.

Once they teach him how to play.

They discovered he can read at least, quite well for his age in fact, so they taught the kids something other than how maintain and shoot guns in that gods forsaken place. Prompto doesn’t understand _stories_ though so he’d mostly frowned through the short one Cor had read to him last night - frighteningly tiny in Cor’s double bed - until Cor had stopped to ask what was wrong.

The word’s don’t come easy to Prompto and all he managed to say was, “Why?”

“Why did Aera just -”

Prompto shook his head, “What - what am I learning?”

“You’re not learning. You’re supposed to just enjoy it,” Cor said.

Prompto’s frown deepened a notch and Cor’s protective instincts had gone into hyper-drive.

“What’s wrong?” Cor asked, temporarily setting the book down. He’d shifted from the chair to the edge of the bed to reach over and brush the top of Prompto’s hair. It’s growing in longer already, after just these two short weeks.

“I don’t understand what that means,” Prompto said and he’d braced himself like he was waiting to be physically reprimanded for daring admit such a thing.

“Hey, shh,” Cor said, “You’re allowed to not understand things okay? When you don’t understand something it’s not _your_ fault it the fault of the person teaching you.”

Prompto visibly floundered for a second before looking up at Cor with eyes that rapidly fill with tears.

“Oh shit, no kid. None of that. Come here.”

Cor helped Prompto sit up and then pulled him in tight against his chest, petting his hair and rubbing his back as he came down from whatever emotional turmoil just took hold of him.

“Enjoying is when you do something that makes you happy,” Cor explains, “You know what happy means?”

Prompto nods, a little jerk.

“So reading the story is supposed to make you happy, but if it doesn’t then we won’t do it any more,” Cor says.

“Story?”

“It’s, huh - okay. So a story is where you tell people about something that happened but sometimes the thing that happened isn’t real and it can be set in a made up place with made up people.”

“Like a lie?” Prompto asks and he sounds _horrified_.

“Not like a lie,” Cor says biting back a smile, “They don’t hurt anyone. And everyone knows they’re not real.”

“Oh.”

Cor rubs his back.

“You don’t have to get it tonight. We can talk about it more tomorrow,” Cor says and he hopes Prompto’s okay with that because he really needs a bit more time to get his own head around the idea and how to explain it.

Prompto had fallen asleep like that in the end and Cor had left the side light on for him when he’d tucked him in properly - unwilling to let Prompto wake up and even for a second think he was back in that awful facility.

Cor’s couch wasn’t quite big enough for him but he was never making Prompto sleep in anything but a real bed ever again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little time skip of a few months from the last chapter 💛

2.

Cor’s pretty much good at cooking one thing and it’s tossing a grilled cheese in a frying pan and being patient enough to let it cook properly over a low temperature. Cor’s not normally patient so he has to be in the right mood to attempt it but for the sake of a decent lunch for him and Prompto he can manage.

Prompto _loves_ it. He scarfs it down so fast Cor has to tell him to slow down - carefully so he doesn’t think he’s in trouble - to stop him from burning his mouth.

Cor’s own sandwich is almost ready when he hears Prompto give a pitiful little moan from the table. Cor turns just in time to see Prompto turn sideways in his chair and vomit spectacularly onto the tiles.

Cor is less concerned by that than the fact Prompto immediately bursts into tears, kneeling down at the edge of the puddle and hovering with his hands over the mess like he’s going to start trying to clean it up with his bare hands.

“Hey, hey,” Cor says and he quickly turns of the stove, rushing to scoop Prompto off the floor away from the mess.

“S-sorry,” Prompto hiccups.

“No need to be sorry,” Cor says, “You can’t help being sick.”

Cor carries him over to the kitchen counter and sets him up on it, grabbing and wetting a damp dish cloth to wipe his face clean. Cor folds it over and wipes Prompto’s hands too, just to be on the safe side.

“I made a mess,” Prompto says, tears slowing from a downpour to gentle sniffles.

“But not on purpose,” Cor says, “Remember what we said?”

Prompto chews his bottom lip and says, “Accidents happen.”

“Accidents happen,” Cor repeats.

Prompto nods, still looking a little miserable and Cor pushes back the hair that’s growing down over his forehead to drop a kiss there.

“When did you start feeling sick?” Cor asks, “You know you should tell me when that happens?” Always it’s a battle with his tone to be _firm_ enough that Prompto knows to listen to him but never harsh enough for it to seem like a scolding. Prompto has never done one thing intentionally wrong in the entire three months he’s been in Insomnia.

Not once.

Not when he struggles to sleep through the night because of nightmares or gets so worried about _talking_ he goes fully non-verbal for a few days.

None of that is his fault and none of it is _wrong_.

Colour floods Prompto’s cheeks and he won’t look at Cor as he says, “It wasn’t until I was done eating.”

 _Cheese,_ Cor realises, it was the cheese.

But Cor _swears_ he’s had some at the Citadel in the past and he’s never had a reaction like this before. Straight milk makes Prompto nauseous to the point of vomiting, sure, so Cor strictly has dairy free alternatives in his fridge now but cheese too?

“Have you felt sick when you’ve eaten cheese before?”

Prompto scrunches up his nose.

“Cheese?”

Cor thinks they’ve been over this already but Prompto’s been learning so many new things it would be impossible for him to retain everything right away.

“The yellow stuff that was in your sandwich? You have a little bit on top of pasta sometimes. And it’s the stuff that stretches on top of pizza when you pulls the slices apart.”

“Oh,” Prompto says. He swings his legs slightly and they knock against the cabinets.

“Because cheese is made with milk -”

Prompto’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head a little. In a shocked whisper he says, “Oh, no.”

Cor bites the inside of cheek to stop from smiling.

Cor smiles _so much_ now. Sure, raising Prompto is difficult and if he didn’t have Monica and Nara supporting him he isn’t sure how he’d get through it - he would though, he’d make it work no matter what - but raising Prompto is also wonderful.

Prompto is smart and kind and _curious_. Though the curious has taken a while to _really_ come in - Prompto’s never been allowed to ask questions before. Prompto’s never been allowed to do most things before.

“So, when you’ve eaten cheese before did it make you sick?”

“If I say yes will I have to stop eating it?” Prompto asks.

Despite himself Cor laughs.

“Maybe less of it,” Cor says, “Just so you don’t get throw up.”

Prompto pouts and he really is the sweetest little thing. Cor doesn’t understand how anyone could live with themselves after hooking him up to machines and strapping him down when he was maybe five years old and scratching ink into his wrist.

It’s hard to pin down exactly how old Prompto was during any of his memories because it’s not like the scientists explained what years and ageing and _birthdays_ were to the kids they had trapped there.

“Sometimes it makes my stomach ache,” Prompto admits. He glances over at mess on the floor and his bottom lip trembles, “And when I had the stringy pizza I thought that was going to happen but it didn’t.”

“Well that’s good,” Cor says, “You let me know when it hurts even a little, okay?”

Prompto nods.

“Why don’t you go wash up and get changed,” Cor tells him and he helps Prompto down from the side.

“What should I wear?” Prompto asks.

“Whatever you want kid,” Cor says.

Prompto hesitates, like he always does when presented with choices but instead of asking for clarification he says, “I should help clean up.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Cor says, “And when you’re changed make sure to get yourself some water. We’ll try food again in a little while, okay?”

Prompto nods and then he turns and all but runs up the stairs.

Cor’s used to pushing cocky recruits to their _limits_ so he’s no stranger to cleaning up vomit from the floor.

\- - -

Cor tilts his head so the phone is trapped between his ear and shoulder, making it so he can have his hands free to go through his filing cabinet, “How was he last night?”

“ _Nightmares_ ,” Monica says, “ _Bad ones_.”

“Dr Greene says we just need to wait that out,” Cor says, “How is he this morning?”

Cor can’t believe he’s seeing a _therapist_ once a fortnight now.

There really isn’t anything he _wouldn’t_ do for his – for Prompto.

“ _Seems fine. Nara got him some colouring books and I guess they’re a bit young for him technically but Cor - he loves them_.”

“Really?”

“ _Yeah - I want to take him to the art store but I have to do the check in with -_ ”

“I’ll handle it,” Cor says, “I’ll cover. You go get him whatever he wants. We’ll work out the cost when you’re back.”

“ _Thanks_ ,” Monica says earnestly, “ _You want to say good morning quickly_?”

“Of course.”

\- - -

Prompto tugs on his sleeve and Cor immediately turns to look down at him.

“What’s wrong, kid?”

Prompto shakes his head and presses a little closer, Cor brings his hand up to the back of his head and ruffles through the hair.

“What if he doesn’t like me?” Prompto whispers so quietly that Cor is glad he had already started leaning down to listen closer otherwise he probably wouldn’t have been able to hear.

“That’s not going to happen,” Cor says.

“Yeah but,” Prompto says, “What if I can’t talk or - or, um -”

Cor pulls Prompto in for a proper hug, letting Prompto tuck his face in against his neck like he often does when he’s scared.

“Noctis is quiet too,” Cor tells him. Again. “And he knows that sometimes you lose words. We just thought it would be nice if you spent some time together before you started having lessons together next week.”

Prompto nods against him, little arms tight around his shoulders.

“Will you be there?” Prompto says.

“The whole time,” Cor promises, “And Monica will come up if you want.”

“Okay,” Prompto whispers, “Okay I’m ready.”

Cor holds Prompto's hand tight as they finish walking to Noct’s chambers.

The Prince is technically still bound to a wheelchair but he’s able to sit up on the couch unaided and do his school work - much to his disappointment - and with both he and Prompto coming along well after their respective trauma they’d decided it was time to start introducing Prompto to the other children.

There’s nothing stopping Prompto from attending regular school except Cor’s worry. Prompto’s not exactly socially _confident_.

People around the Citadel generally know who he is and mostly they know not to bother him too much but occasionally a Glaive or someone will come over to talk to him. They're well intentioned, Cor is sure just trying to make him laugh, or ask him about what he’s doing. Generally Prompto clams up and gets shy which they just think it’s cute but sometimes they push and _push_ and Prompto doesn’t understand what's happening and gets upset.

And well.

If you make Prompto cry and Cor has the power to make you run laps? You’re running laps. A lot of them.

Cor knocks on the door and Regis calls them in.

Prompto has met Regis, likes him, Cor thinks, as much as Prompto ever overtly likes a thing.

“Hello, Prompto,” Regis says kindly and Prompto manges a smile, raising his hand in a little wave.

“How are we today?” Regis asks.

“Good,” Cor answers for both of them. Slowly and with the same wide eyes that Prompto’s sporting Noctis leans around slightly from behind his father. Prompto squeezes Cor’s hand with what he can only assume is all the strength in his little body.

“Say hello, Noctis,” Regis instructs gently.

Noct turns those wide eyes on Regis and after an encouraging smile from his father Noct turns back and manages a low little, “Hi.”

Cor hears Prompto inhale and he responds, “Hello.”

Regis stands from the couch and indicates the vacated spot to Prompto.

“Why don’t you come sit here with Noct Prompto and you can help him build his - what was it?”

“Fish,” Noctis says, eyes still fixed on Prompto like he’s never seen something so fascinating before.

Noctis asks Prompto, “Do you - do you like fish?”

“I don’t know,” Prompto says and then he turns to look up at Cor.

“Why don’t you find out?”

Cor leads Prompto to the couch and as he climbs up Regis drags around the tall table on wheels they’ve been using for Noctis to do things while he’s incapacitated. It’s littered with tiny little building blocks in assorted colours.

Prompto reaches for one and then pulls his hand back, casting Noctis a fearful look. The Prince picks up a few bricks and shows Prompto how the bricks snap securely together and then pushes then joined form into Prompto’s hand.

Prompto’s breathing a little fast but he seems _excited_ rather than nervous and Cor watches on tenterhooks as he turns the bricks over in his hand.

“We - we just push them together and -”

“Make whatever we want,” Noctis confirms. From under the pile of bricks his pulls free a cutting from a magazine and a few of them tumble to the ground. Prompto glances at the fallen bricks but stays seated.

Cor tentatively takes a few steps back to stand closer to Regis. Prompto doesn't react so Cor takes another one.

“I want to make this,” Noctis says and Prompto carefully places the bricks down to take the picture with both hands.

“Fish,” Prompto says and Noctis nods with more enthusiasm as Cor has seen in him since the car accident.

Noctis holds up a squat group of bricks pressed together in a short rectangle.

“Will you help?”

Prompto nods and Cor exhales with relief.

\- - -

“He was frowning a lot while he was reading,” Monica explains, “So I asked what was wrong and _eventually_ I got him to admit his head hurt.”

Cor frowns too. They _need_ to get Prompto more comfortable about saying when he’s hurt or sad or _anything_ but completely fine.

“You took him straight to the doctor?”

Monica nods, “I don’t trust they didn’t do irreparable damage to him in that place but the doctor did a few tests - non invasive, no giant machines or anything,” Monica hastens to reassure under what Cor imagines is the less that enthusiastic expression on his face, “Prompto was - _is_ fine. Anyway, he ended up referring us to the optometrist.”

“Glasses, right?”

“Yes,” Monica confirms, “And he needs them all the time really, so just make sure he’s putting them on in the morning. I don’t think he’ll not wear them on purpose but it’ll take some adjustment for him.”

“Got it,” Cor says, “What do I owe you?”

Monica sighs, “Firstly; we’re in this together. And secondly; we did it all with in-house doctors so if you want to give anyone money it’s His Majesty.”

\- - -

“And - and Noct was saying how Luna has _two_ dogs. Two! Isn’t that _amazing_?”

“That’s really great, buddy,” Cor tells him.

Cor already knows this, of course. Not just because Cor had been in the room when Noctis was telling Prompto all about them, encouraged by receiving a photograph of the animals in question from his pen pal. Cor just already _knew_ about them because knowing stuff like that is kind of in his job description.

It’s great to see Prompto so happy though. _Animated_.

Prompto often comes away from play dates with Noctis buoyant and talkative. He doesn’t like _school_ so much because he’s just so far behind on what a kid his age should have been taught by now.

It’s a battle to convince Prompto he’s not stupid most days and it’s difficult and frustrating because Prompto is anything _but_ stupid.

Prompto’s nine next week and Cor can’t quite believe it.

“I bet the dogs would like walking in this park,” Prompto muses.

“I bet they would,” Cor agrees,

“I wish I could show it to Noct, too,” Prompto goes on, “It’s not fair that he has to stay inside all the time.”

Cor sighs. It’s really, really not.

“We _can_ show it to Noctis,” Cor says.

Prompto stops walking at once.

“How?”

“How did Noctis show you Umbra and Pryna?” Cor asks him.

Prompto frowns. “With the pictures?” he says uncertainly like it could possibly be wrong.

“Exactly. So why don’t we take some pictures to show him?” Cor suggests.

“We can _do_ that?” Prompto gasps.

Cor grins and pulls his phone from his pocket. Letting Prompto take a hold of it Cor shows him which app to press to open up the camera and as the image of their surroundings fills the screen Prompto jerks with excitement.

“How do I?” Prompto says but he taps at the screen and the artificial shutter sound heralds the capture of their shoes on the leaf strewn path.

“ _Wow_ ,” Prompto breathes. He turns the camera up towards Cor and grinning with all his teeth he snaps a shot of Cor’s face.

“Alright, alright,” Cor grumbles but its really an effort not to smile, “You wanted to show Noct the park,” Cor reminds him, “He sees my face all the d- all the time.”

Cor will wait for a few days to see if this enthusiasm sticks but if it does he’s buying Prompto the best damn camera he can find.

\- - -

Tall for his age Gladio and short for his age Prompto are kind of a sight to behold when you sit them side by side on the couch. Noctis is in his wheelchair, closer to the TV with Ignis sat beside him as he plays some new video game that had been sent along for the prince to enjoy before it’s general release. Prompto keeps eyeing the TV with interest but he’s yet to work up the nerve to ask for a turn.

Cor half wants to step in but Dr Greene warned him in their last session that Prompto has to get used to asserting himself and making his own decisions. Otherwise he’ll be relying on Cor for every little thing for the rest of his life.

Cor probably wouldn't mind but understands it's best for Prompto.

“Gladio’s going to be even taller than _you_ ,” Cor tells his oldest friend as they watch the kids play.

Cor had been worried about Prompto and Gladio meeting for the first time because Gladio can be so _boisterous_ when he’s in the right mood. Gladio used to expel some of that energy chasing Noctis around the gardens but that's no longer possible since the accident that the functionality of his legs away from Noctis. Temporarily they think. Hope.

But Clarus had warned Gladio that Prompto was _sensitive_ and Gladio had walked into the room with half a dozen comics tucked under his arm and approached Prompto with a little smile. After a few minutes coaxing and Gladio opening one of the comics across his lap he’d managed to win him over.

Realistically Prompto was drawn in by the bright colours but Cor isn’t going to be choosy about Gladio’s methods, kid could use more friends. Cor thinks Prompto's still kind of terrified of Ignis but he and Noctis have gotten _so_ close. Sometimes it feel horrible to pull them apart at the ends of the day.

“Be as tall as you by the time he’s a teenager, I’d put money on it,” Clarus responds.

Great, Cor thinks, he’s _really_ looking forward to the day when Gladio manages to knock him on his ass in the training yard right in full view of everyone.

“What are you doing for his birthday?” Clarus says, “He’s nine?” Clarus looks over at the boys on the couch and develops a little crease between his eyebrows, “He’s small.”

“Docs say he’ll catch up,” Cor says feeling defensive, “They were _starving_ him Clarus -”

“I wasn't criticizing,” Clarus says, “I was merely observing.”

“I know - sorry. Prompto's struggling to understand birthday’s right now so we’re just going to get him a few gifts and have dinner at Monica and Nara’s.”

“The boys will be sad if they don’t see him,” Clarus points out, “Regis said Noctis insisted they buy him something.”

“He’ll be here for lunch but I really don’t want to overwhelm him,” Cor says, “We’ve been watching movies with birthdays in and I _think_ he’s getting there.”

“There’s time,” Clarus promises.

\- - -

Prompto wakes up on his birthday screaming.

“You’re okay,” Cor says pulling him free from his tangle of blankets, “You’re safe. I’m here, I’ve got you.”

“ _Cor_.”

“I’ve got you, buddy. Come here,” Cor says and Prompto twists until he can cling to Cor’s shirt as Cor lifts him free of the bed and into his arms.

Prompto presses his face into Cor’s neck and Cor feels the collar of his t-shirt dampen steadily as he carries Prompto downstairs. The fastest way to calm Prompto down after a nightmare is to remove him from the situation, as far away as possible. Preferably somewhere light, naturally so. They can sit together by the big doors that lead out towards the garden in the morning sun and Prompto can remember where he truly lives.

Shit, Cor will take him all the way outside if he has too but it’s _raining_ and he doesn’t want to spare the time getting Prompto into a coat. Or separate him from his body until Prompto seems ready.

Cor sinks into the armchair that Prompto sits in to read or draw in the evenings and gives Prompto what he hopes is a playful little jostle. Prompto’s still crying, but just little sniffles and as Prompto releases his hold on Cor to rub his fist against his eye Cor eases him back from his neck.

“You wanna talk about it?” Cor asks.

Prompto rubs his eyes again and shakes his head.

“Not at all?”

Prompto blinks and then just says, “Tank.”

Cor doesn’t know exactly what that means but his brain can extrapolate plenty of awful things to go along with it. Cor brushes back Prompto’s hair, long over his forehead now and kisses his head. Prompto shifts so he’s sitting back against Cor’s chest and looks out the doors and over their garden.

Cor had built Prompto a swing set a little while ago and Prompto had swung on it every day before the weather turned. Clarus thinks Prompto will outgrow it before long but Cor thinks its worth it even for just a few months of happiness.

“Wet sky,” Prompto says and Cor smiles.

“Rain?”

“Yeah, don’t like it,” Prompto says and -

Prompto _doesn’t_ like it. And he said it. He just _said_ it.

“Wish I could make it go away for you, kid,” Cor says.

“It rains because of a cycle,” Prompto says, “Water goes up and then comes back down.”

“You learn that at your classes with Noctis?” Cor asks.

Prompto nods and gives one last, sad little sniff.

“You ready for breakfast?” he asks. There’s no way he’s going to make Prompto have a bath or a shower this morning, not on the back of a nightmare about a _tank_.

Prompto gives another nod.

“It’s your birthday,” Cor reminds him, “So you can have whatever you want.”

Cor feels pretty confident in saying this because Prompto’s in no way inclined - or even _able_ really - to demand ice cream or something equally ridiculous. And even if he _were_ Cor thinks he would let it slide just this once.

“ _My_ birthday?” Prompto asks.

“Yes, yours - you remember what birthdays are?”

“It when someone has been around for a whole year so you thank them,” Prompto says.

That’s kind of close enough.

“Mhm,” Cor hums, “And today is _yours_. So I will make you whatever you want to say _thank you_.”

Prompto turns so suddenly he slides right off Cor’s lap. Tears apparently forgotten he looks up at Cor in awe.

“What is it?”

“I didn’t - do _I_ really get a birthday? Like on the television?”

“Of course you do,” Cor says and he ruffles Prompto’s hair.

-

Prompto couldn’t decide what he wanted for breakfast - of course - so Cor made some pancakes from a box mix and they were acceptable even if they were a little wonky and overcooked at the edges. Prompto _loved_ them which is all that really matters but he does seem to be developing something of a sweet tooth.

And a tolerance for spice; a little while ago Cor had picked some spicy peppers off his dinner and curious Prompto had decided to help himself in the few seconds Cor’s back was turned. Cor had turned back to see Prompto pop the second one in his mouth like he was simply eating slices of cucumbers.

Cor was both amazed at his fortitude and proud of him for just taking something that he wanted. Yeah, sure, politeness dictates he should have _asked_ first but Cor had made it perfectly clear _he_ didn’t want them.

“We’re late,” Cor grumbles lightly as he opens Prompto’s car door for him.

“Uh oh,” he replies, “Ignis says late is _bad_.”

“And he’s right, if you don’t have a very good reason you should always try very hard not to be late.”

“What’s our very good reason?” Prompto asks.

They don’t have one. At least not one that’ll send Prompto into a guilt spiral. The pancakes had taken longer than Cor had anticipated and then Prompto had wanted to draw for a while and Cor didn’t have it inside him to ask the kid to stop until he’d finished drawing the happy cat he’d seen on their walk a few days ago.

“It’s my fault,” Cor says, “I lost track of time.”

Cor isn’t sure that Prompto will understand that turn of phrase but the little champ just nods his head and keeps time with Cor as they head out of the parking level and into the Citadel.

“Will you get in trouble?”

Cor laughs, “Not this time.”

“Good.”

Cor ruffles his hair and walks them straight towards the elevator that’ll take them up to Noct’s day room. Prompto spends most days there, apart from the weekend, one day of which he spends with Cor and the other at Monica and Nara’s house.

Monica and Cor used to alternate weekends and now they just take one day each. It’s not the best work to life balance in the world but they make it work.

Prompto’s worth it.

Cor pushes open the door without knocking and -

“Happy birthday, Prompto!” Noctis shouts.

Prompto jumps, startled, and raises an arm to cover his face as if to ward off a blow.

Sometimes the reminders if his trauma come out sudden and sharp from nowhere.

“Hey, hey,” Cor says, “It’s just Noctis. You’re okay, buddy.”

Prompto lowers his arm.

Noctis had wheeled his chair closer to the door so he could be _right there_ when Prompto came in and now he sits in it, leaning forward eagerly with a concerned look on his face. Beside the chair is a truly _enormous_ wrapped gift in slightly gaudy blue paper with yellow stars all over it.

“We’re sorry for scaring you Prompto,” Regis says.

“Sorry,” Noctis chirps.

Prompto gives them both a smile and Noctis physically melts in his chair, pushing himself to lean out as far as he can and offering his arms out for a hug. Prompto trots over and climbs up onto Noctis’ foot plates to give wrap his arms around him, blond and black hair intermingling. Regis clamps his hand around the handle of the wheelchair to prevent them from toppling over before Cor can rush over and do it himself.

They’d had a near miss with that before.

When they’ve pulled away and Prompto has climbed - stumbled - down from the chair Regis touches the wrapped present and says, “This is for you.”

Prompto blinks up at him, “For me?”

“A present,” Noctis says, “For your birthday.”

Prompto looks at Cor.

“It’s something for you to have. That’s just yours. Like your colouring pencils and your stuffed toys,” Cor explains.

Prompto’s eyes widen and he turns to stare at the present.

“Thank you,” Prompto says, “I like yellow.”

Noctis laughs.

“The present is inside, silly,” Noctis tells him.

Prompto presses his hand against the paper so it crinkles and bends under his touch.

“Why don’t you help him, Noct,” Regis says and with surprising deftness Noctis turns his chair about so he can get his hands on the paper and tear a little hole for Prompto to see.

Prompto gasps and then he’s pulling the paper apart, the noise of it ripping filling the air.

It’s quite predictably a chocobo plush but the size is -

“That must be taller than Prompto when it’s standing,” Cor mutters to Regis.

“Noctis insisted,” Regis says, “He demanded we buy him, and I quote, _the biggest chocobo in Insomnia._ ”

Cor laughs, “Did you have to show him one _that_ big.”

“They did bigger, you know,” Regis says with a laugh, “Trust me, it could have been worse.”

Prompto pulls the last of the paper away with the broadest grin Cor has ever seen, blue eyes sparkling with _joy_ and not unshed tears. Then Prompto _launches_ himself at the toy and as it falls back to the floor with Prompto atop it he _laughs_.

It’s bright and carefree, a high peel of noise that smacks Cor in the chest and makes his throat feel tight.

Prompto’s been smiling for a while now. Talking more, asking questions, giving opinions.

But Cor hasn’t ever heard him _laugh_.

Cor doesn’t know if maybe Prompto laughs all the time at Monica and Nara’s and there’s just something about _him_ that means Prompto’s never done it in his house but -

It’s beautiful.

Regis puts his hand on Cor’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze.

“That’s a lovely sound,” Regis says.

Cor has to clear his throat.

“Yeah it is.”

-

Clarus arrives with Gladio and Iris before Prompto’s fully recovered from his chocobo gift and it ends up being Gladio that hefts the thing onto the couch and then helps Prompto clamber up onto it so he can sit _on_ the chocobo while he opens the rest of his presents.

It’s just a few books, a short series of child friendly novels that Gladio rambles on at Prompto for about ten minutes while the blond listen attentively. Gladio only stops when Iris, almost four, lets her brother know she’s bored by hitting his leg with the other present. This turns out to be large book, borderline a textbook filled with glossy nature photography, called the _Wilds of Lucis._ Prompto flicks through the pages right up until the moment Ignis enters the room with his uncle carrying a pretty decent looking cake.

Monica’s definitely made a cake too but the kid’s still underweight, he can have two slices today.

-

“Can we go and take pictures _now_?” Prompto asks _literally_ bouncing in his seat.

“It’s dark now, sweetie,” Nara says and she smooths down the cow-lick at the back of his head.

“Oh, but -” Prompto starts and then cuts himself off.

“You can take some pictures in the house,” Monica says, “And tomorrow we’ll go to the park and you can take as many as you'd like.”

“Can we find a dog?” Prompto asks.

“If one is in the park we’ll ask the owners if we can take a picture of them, yes,” Monica promises.

“Come on, little man,” Nara says and she offers Prompto her hand, helping him down from the dining table and leading him further into the house with his new camera strapped securely to one wrist.

“That was a really good idea,” Monica says, “You were right.”

“I’m just glad my phone memory is gonna stop getting filled up on our walks,” Cor deflects.

Monica rolls her eyes.

“Six months,” Monica says, “Can you believe he’s been with us six months?”

“Yes,” Cor answers, “Though sometimes it feels like six minutes.”

“He’s come such a long way,” Monica says and then rather brazenly she adds, “And so have you.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just - nice to see you focusing on things other than work. Prompto’s as good for you as you are for him.”

Cor nods.

“You love him,” Monica says, “And it’s lovely to see.”

Cor does, he _really_ does. Cor has never been in love, he’s never had it in him to fall in love and he’s certainly not interested in anything that would create a child in the more traditional means. But this love, a _father’s_ love for a child has come so easily to him. He thought he’d struggle, that his strained relationship with his parents would have blocked off this part of him too.

But it’s been so easy for Cor to love Prompto, to care for him and want to keep him safe. Cor will burn down the entire world to keep Prompto safe - to keep him _happy_ \- if that’s what it takes.

Cor doesn’t have it in him to say it out loud though, not yet.

Which is probably fine, because Prompto certainly wouldn’t understand what that meant anyway.

“I couldn’t do it without you,” Cor tells her.

“You could,” Monica argues, “But you won’t ever have to.”

\- - -

Prompto’s hair is almost to his shoulders now and it’s Clarus that first does something about the strands constantly flopping down in front of his eyes during lessons.

“Is it alright if I touch your hair, Prompto?” Clarus asks him.

Prompto tucks some of it behind his ear and nods.

The gentleness in Clarus’ hands surprises Cor at first, the way he pulls back the hair from Prompto's face until it’s in a little tail at the back of his head without causing Prompto any obvious discomfort. When he remembers that Clarus is probably mostly responsible for Iris’ braids and pigtails it suddenly makes a lot of sense.

Clarus secures the little ponytail with a hair-tie from his pocket and gives it gentle, playful tug.

“How’s that? Better?”

Prompto brings his hand up around to feel it and _beams_.

“Thank you!” Prompto says.

“Looking smart, kid,” Cor tells him and Prompto’s grin stretches _wider_.

“Very practical,” Ignis chimes in and then Noctis tries to reach for the little tail to tug it with his hands.

“How come you haven’t got his hair cut?” Clarus asks him, voice dropped low as the boys settle back in to playing.

“A little while ago Monica asked him if he wanted his hair cut and he just said ‘okay’,” Cor explains, “So we tried to get him to decide if it was something he _wanted_ and he decided that he didn’t.”

“He had that really short buzz when you bought him back,” Clarus muses, “Did all the kids have it?”

Cor nods, “And if he wants to experiment with making decisions about his own life by growing his hair I’m not going to stop him.”

“How is he about his tattoo?”

“I don’t think he’s realised it’s not normal yet,” Cor admits, “I’m really not looking forward to that day.”

“It’s not his fault,” Clarus says, “It doesn’t mean anything about who he is, we’ll all be here to help him see that.”

\- - -

Prompto looks _adorable_ in his chocobo costume.

Yeah, it’s not very scary but Prompto is _so_ ridiculously happy that Cor isn’t willing to accept any criticism. Plus they’re _kids_ , maybe when Prompto’s a teenager he’ll want to dress up at a zombie or something.

Ignis has to pull his little plastic fangs out of his mouth to tell Noctis, “Don’t look so miserable. There’s room for more than one pirate on the sea.”

Because Noctis _and_ Gladio have turned up dressed as pirates and Gladio isn’t bothered by it at all but His Highness is pouting in his wheel chair. Maybe the wheelchair is partly to blame for that.

Noctis _can_ walk now, just not very far and not without crutches. Certainly not far enough for him to walk while Clarus and Cor take them all trick or treating.

“Do you want to swap?” Cor hears Prompto ask his best friend.

Noctis’ face cracks and he smiles at Prompto, playfully pushing Prompto’s shoulder.

“No!” he laughs, “ _You’re_ the chocobo-butt.”

“Language,” Clarus warns reflexively.

Noctis and Prompto lean their heads together as they giggle, Noct pulling out his plastic sword and brandishing it towards Clarus.

Iris totters towards Prompto in her pink ballerina outfit and gives his tail feather a tug. When Prompto turns to her she lifts her arms up for a carry and Prompto puts down the plastic pumpkin they’ll use to carry their sweets to scoop her up. But Prompto’s still on the small side so carrying her the whole way just isn’t going to work. Gladio suggests _he_ carry her instead and Prompto makes himself useful by carrying _her_ pumpkin as well as his own.

Gladio _definitely_ complained earlier that he was too old for this - he’s twelve and objectively _wrong_ \- but he seems cheerful enough now.

“Everyone ready?” Clarus call.

Prompto yells, “Trick or treat!”

“You got it, bud,” Cor encourages.

In all likelihood Prompto will clam up the first time he’s presented with a stranger but Cor will be there to buoy him up and make him feel as confident as he can.

“Are we going to knock at Monica’s house?” Gladio asks him.

“You bet,” Cor says, “I bet she’s going to have special treats _just_ for you guys.”

\- - -

Prompto’s been _off_ all evening.

He went to lessons with Noctis this morning and then they’d had the afternoon off to do _crafts_. Ignis has explained that when Cor had dropped Prompto off this morning, seeming a little apologetic but Cor’s all for Prompto exploring his artistic side, it makes his kid happy after all.

But _something_ must have happened.

He’s nervous and jumpy, hard to get to speak and when Cor can manage to get a good look at his eyes he seems to be on the verge of tears.

Cor pulls one of the chair round closer to Prompto’s where he’s working on a few math worksheets for his schooling.

“Did something happen today?” Cor asks him.

“No,” Prompto says but his hand clutches his pencil a little too tight and his lower lip quivers.

“Prompto,” Cor sighs, “Maybe I can fix it if you tell me - what were you doing this afternoon with Noctis and Ignis after I left?”

“We were making cards,” Prompto says, “For fathers day. _They_ were making cards.”

“Oh,” Cor says.

But not Prompto, it seems. Probably because he doesn’t have a father - he doesn’t _think_ he has a father anyway. Cor is his father in every way that matters, Cor knows, but he’d never wanted to put any pressure on Prompto to consider him as anything other than a person that was there for him. That would never hurt him and never let anyone else hurt him.

He thought they might talk about this _later_ when Prompto had more time to adjust to his life outside the facility but apparently Cor’s already behind.

Cor's been avoiding thinking the words _my son_ just to steel himself against the possibility Prompto wouldn't want him like that. But he is. Prompto is his _son_.

“But I didn’t know if I was allowed to make one because I’m not - because you’re -” Prompto stutters.

“Hey, hey,” Cor says, “Kid don’t get upset, please.”

Because some of the dampness has started to well up and spill over his bottom eyelashes.

“This is my fault, we should have talked about it before but I didn’t want to pressure you.”

“Me?” Prompto sniffles.

“Kid, Prompto -” Cor slides off his chair and kneels besides Prompto's, slotting one hand on each of his shoulders so Prompto is forced to look at him, “Being your Dad - it would be _everything_. But it’s your decision, not mine. You never have to call me anything for me to take care of you to - to _love_ you. You’re my kid for always. Mine and Monica and Nara’s.”

“Can I - do people have two moms?”

“Yes,” Cor says, “Sometimes they have two moms or three moms or two dads _and_ two moms. All sorts of things. Families aren’t just one thing, they can be almost _anything_.”

Prompto lets out a little huff of laughter.

“So I can - tomorrow I can make you a card?”

“I’d really like that,” Cor says because he _really would_ like that, “And when Mother’s day happens next year I’ll help you get something for Monica and Nara, yeah?”

Another tear slips down Prompto’s cheek but he smiles. “Yeah.”

Cor climbs to his feet, giving Prompto’s shoulder a squeeze. He starts to turn to head to the kitchen when Prompto starts -

“D-dad?”

Cor’s heart pounds but he turns back with the least wobbly smile he can manage.

“Yeah, kid?”

Prompto’s red across his cheeks, embarrassed and nervous but his smiles spreads and solidifies when he seems to realise Cor isn’t going to rebuff this step.

“Can I have some orange juice?” Prompto asks, “Please?”

Cor strokes back the hair that’s fallen lose from Prompto’s ponytail to kiss his head.

“Anything you want,” Cor promises.

It takes Cor a little longer than normal to pull the carton out of the fridge because Cor needs a _fucking minute_ just to process the turn his evening took.

\- - -

Cor doesn’t want to go. Cor wants to send someone else and stay here and _not_ be the reason Prompto is making that face.

But there isn’t anyone else so he carefully packs Prompto enough things into a duffel bag to last him a week with Monica and Nara.

“You’re coming back?” Prompto whispers when Cor pulls the zip closed.

“Absolutely,” Cor says, “It’s only a week. That’s no time at all.”

Prompto nods but he looks miserable so Cor sits down on the edge of the bed and pulls him into a hug.

“But what if you -” Prompto mumbles, “What if you find another kid?”

“What do you mean?” Cor asks.

“Last time you went away you found me - and I just. I know it’s selfish. But I don’t want you to because if you find another kid then you won’t have time for me any more.”

“Prompto,” Cor says and he grips him tighter, “That’s _never_ going to happen.”

“Yeah but what if -”

Cor grips his shoulders and pushes Prompto’s back so he can see his face.

“I’m probably not going to find another kid, okay? Almost definitely. But even if I did that’s not going to change how much I care about you. I’ll never not have time for you and I’ll never replace you with someone else. You’re _my_ kid, my son. Remember that okay.”

Prompto rubs his eye with his fist and says, “I’ve been talking to Dr Greene about something.”

Good, Cor thinks, considering that’s why she gets paid.

“And I wanted to talk to you about it before you go away,” Prompto mumbles.

“You can talk to me about anything,” Cor promises.

“I um - we’ve been talking about emotions. And feelings,” Prompto says.

Cor has too, but Prompto’s definitely better at it than he is, probably making much faster progress.

“So um, I love you, Dad.”

Cor swallows.

He hadn’t been anticipating _that_.

It’s easier than expected for him to return, “I love you, too, kid.”

“Oh,” Prompto says and he blinks rapidly a few times, “Good.”

“I bet you love more than just me, huh?” Cor says.

Prompto nods.

“And I bet you loving Monica and Nara and _Noctis_ doesn’t mean that you love me any less, right?”

Prompto shakes his head furiously, ponytail bobbing side to side.

“So even if I did find another kid that needs taking care of or Monica and Nara decide to have a baby in the future we’ll still love you just the same amount and _maybe_ there’ll be someone else for you to love too.”

“Oh,” Prompto says, “Okay, yeah - that’s -”

“I’m going to miss you while I’m gone,” Cor tells him.

“Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompto being sick after the grilled cheese is a little reference to how he’s lactose intolerant in the main fic but still continues to eat cheese. Because cheese.  
> Real talk my cousin's kid thought that birthday parties were to say thank you to someone for them existing. It was real cute.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should be pretty obvious – unless I did a no good, bad job – but Prompto is 15 when this chapter starts.  
> Sorry if that's not how old he should be when he starts High School. I am English and tired.

3.

“I know you hoped Noctis could come with you,” Cor says to Prompto, adjusting his tie for him, “We all did.”

“It just sucks,” Prompto says, “He’s been trying so hard.”

“I know,” Cor says, “Maybe next year.”

“Do I have to go?” Prompto asks, “Can’t I just keep studying at the Citadel?”

Cor sighs. It’s tempting; to keep Prompto close and safe and to stop him having to do something that scares him but it’s got to be time. It was probably time when he was due to start middle school but something had come up the summer before and Prompto carefully curated anonymity had been destroyed.

Verstael Besithia had died and it had been all over the news and Cor and Monica had felt the need to tell Prompto that the man in question was his birth father and responsible for what happened to him.

Cor’s still not sure it was the right call, he thinks they should have waited but they’d done it and Prompto was absolutely not in a position to go to middle school after that.

It had taken a full six days for him to utter a word.

Prompto tugs nervously at the wristband covering his tattoo and Cor _really_ wishes he didn’t feel the need to keep that covered. The problem is, of course, that when the news of Besithia’s death had broken across Lucis so had details of the facility. What had been _known_ but never discussed was suddenly being printed in magazines five years after their collapse.

And now everyone in Lucis knows that anyone with one of those marks was once a child soldier in an Imperial facility.

Prompto's picture had appeared in a newspaper alongside Cor's and they'd demanded they retract the article but the damage had already been done.

“Try and stick it out for a semester, okay?” Cor offers, “If you don’t make any friends or you _really_ hate it we can talk about again.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Prompto says.

It’s been six years since he first said it but Cor still gets a little jolt whenever he does.

He’s a father. Prompto is his _son_.

The best son.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you?” Cor asks.

Prompto rolls his eyes, “Everyone is going to know who I am the minute a teacher says my name so I figure the least I can do is turn up not in a super-obviously-from-the-Citadel car.”

“Whatever you want, bud,” Cor says, “Did you make lunch? I’ll give you money if you want.”

“I made a sandwich and stuff,” Prompto says and he shifts away from Cor to check his hair in the mirror they have hanging in the hall.

Prompto decided to start cutting it a year or so ago and while it’s not _short_ Cor kind of misses the little blond tuft at the back of his head.

Both he and Noctis are just starting to experiment with their hair now, beginning to care more about the way they look and Cor supposes that’s to be expected. They’re _teenagers_ now, as terrifying as that seems.

Cor hadn’t been bothered when Prompto had haltingly asked him if he could get contact lenses, he’d just set up the appointment and trusted Prompto to take good care of his eyes and do what the optician told him to do. So far they haven’t had any problems and being without glasses seems to make Prompto a little more confident so Cor really can’t complain.

“You’re gonna come straight to the Citadel after school yeah?”

“Iggy’s gonna drive me,” Prompto says, “I’ll do my homework with Noct and then we’ll just chill, you know.”

“Make sure you go see your mom, okay?” Cor reminds him and Prompto nods, still fixing his hair, “Alright, I’ll see you later.”

Cor opens up his arms for a hug and Prompto rolls his eyes.

“ _Dad_ , I’m not a little kid any more,” he complains but he steps right in and gives Cor a brief hug anyway.

“Call me if you need anything,” Cor says.

“And you’ll come running,” Prompto says, “I know. I’m nervous but I’ll be fine.”

Cor smiles, “Off with you then.”

Prompto grins as swings his backpack on his shoulder and sets off for his first day of high school.

\- - -

“ _Mr Leonis_?” the voice on the phone says. Cor’s glad he saved the school’s number into his phone because he makes a point of _not_ answering calls from people he doesn’t know usually.

It _is_ weird for someone to call him on this number and not call him _Marshal_ though.

“Speaking?”

“ _I was wondering if you had a moment to talk about your - your ward, Prompto_?”

“My son, you mean,” Cor says coldly.

“ _Yes, sorry_ ,” she says,

“Did he do something wrong?” Cor asks.

As far as Prompto reports school is going _ugh, fine Dad stop hovering_ and while he’s not bonded with anyone in a way that Prompto is willing to call friendship he gets along well enough with most people and the girl he shares a table with in art class is particularly nice.

Part of Cor thinks Prompto might have a crush on her but having never experienced that kind of thing himself it’s hard to tell.

“ _Not exactly_ ,” she goes on, “ _A couple of his teachers have just noticed that he seems to have trouble concentrating. And although he often refrains from speaking up in class if one of his classmates engages him in conversation it can be almost impossible to get him back on track_.”

The concept that his son is a bit of a chatterbox is not news to Cor at all. Long gone are the days where he’s nervous to string a sentence together or ask a question. Thankfully.

“You want me to talk to him about it?” Cor asks, though if Prompto is having trouble concentrating Cor isn’t sure what they can do about it. One of the Citadel teachers had mentioned the same thing a few times but Prompto had always gotten his work done and after the first year or so he’d been keeping up with Noct well enough.

“ _Mostly we wanted to keep you updated but if you could mention it we’d really appreciate it_ ,” she says.

“I’ll see if there’s something distracting him in the mornings,” Cor tells her.

“ _Wonderful. Did you have any concerns yourself, Mr Leonis?”_

“Nothing I can think of right now,” Cor says.

“ _I’ll let you get on with your day then_ ,” she says and Cor mumbles a farewell before she hangs up.

Cor ponders the problem but there’s nothing he can do with Prompto still at school.

-

They end up staying at the Citadel for dinner because Noct and Prompto are really missing each other now they’re separated all day. It’s a nice change and Monica even brings up dessert for everyone, sitting with them for a while. It does mean they don’t end up leaving the Citadel until it’s long dark. Only once they’re pulling into the driveway does Cor remember his phone call from earlier.

“Oh, hey, kid, I need to talk to you,” Cor says and Prompto looks up in alarm from where he’s releasing his seat belt.

“Did I do something wrong?” Prompto asks.

“No,” Cor says, “Your school called today.”

“That _really_ sounds like I did something wrong,” Prompto says.

“You didn’t, I promise.”

They get out of the car and Cor tucks Prompto under his arm as they walk the short distance to the car.

“You struggling to concentrate at school, bud?”

“Uh, sometimes,” Prompto admits.

“Is something distracting you?”

“Not really?” Prompto says but it up-ticks at the end like a question.

“Tell me what’s going on in that brain box of yours.”

“I just - in the morning sometimes I feel like I have a _tonne_ of energy so it makes focusing on like Lucian Literature or social science really hard,” Prompto says.

“You think you’d do better if you burnt some of it off?” Cor asks.

“Oh, maybe - you mean like exercise before school?” Prompto asks.

“I use the treadmill at work before training most days,” Cor tells him, “But maybe we should try jogging instead.”

“Really?” Prompto perks up, “Can we start tomorrow - I remember I used to -”

Prompto cuts off and his face darkens. Cor opens the front door as fast as he can and steers him inside.

“You okay?”

“Yeah - I just. Remembered that I used to run in the uh - you know. And I was good at it, so I guess I kind of enjoyed it. As much as I enjoyed anything.”

Cor suddenly remembers telling Monica that Prompto was _fast_.

“We can try something else,” Cor says, “If you -”

“No, no,” Prompto says, “I wanna at least try. Tomorrow? I’ll change my alarm.”

“Not tomorrow,” Cor says, “You need better shoes if you’re going to run.”

Prompto slumps.

“I’ll take you this weekend,” Cor promises.

\- - -

They’ve only been running together about three months when Prompto makes the track team.

About three weeks after _that_ he brings home his first medal and Cor spends the weekend making a special display hook for the hallway to hold it and all the rest he knows Prompto will inevitably win.

\- - -

A little naively, perhaps, Cor had thought he’d gotten away without experiencing any of typical teenage moodiness Clarus and Regis like to complain about.

But then one day he comes home from school - late because of his photography club - and he’s not _rude,_ because he’s Prompto, but he is grumpy and uncommunicative and he goes off to bed immediately after they've eaten. Cor tries to watch TV by himself but it’s no fun without Prompto’s rambling commentary and there’s something just off enough about his son that has Cor worried.

After a week of this where Prompto appears more sullen and down trodden each day and no amount of asking gets Cor anywhere he starts to feel genuinely concerned. It seems _more_ than just typical moodiness. More like something has _happened_.

“Maybe a little quiet,” Monica muses when Cor asks her if she’s noticed anything off about their son.

“He hasn’t mentioned anything happening at school? A girl or a guy or bullies or anything?”

Monica shakes her head.

“Prompto loves me and Nara very much,” Monica says, “But if he’s going to talk to anyone about something like that it would be _you_. Or Noctis.”

 _Noctis_.

It’s not c _ompletely_ unprecedented that Cor might drop in on the Prince’s physical therapy training with Gladio, so that very afternoon he clears enough time in his schedule to do just that.

Noctis is mostly mobile now, can walk and stand for some time most days with just occasional bouts of being confined to his bed or chair when the pain flares.

Noctis had desperately wanted to go to school with Prompto but the only way they could sign off on that was if he agreed to go in his wheel chair. Full time. Noctis hadn’t wanted _extra_ reasons to draw attention to himself and had ultimately decided to wait a little longer before attending general education.

“Marshal,” Gladio greets as he enters the room.

He’s stood behind Noctis, supporting him as he does dips on the parallel bars.

“Cor,” Noct grits out.

“Two more then a break,” Gladio reassures him.

Cor waits as Noctis completes his reps and then walks himself over to bench at the side of the room. Gladio digs out a water bottle to toss his way and Noct snatches it out of the air.

“What brings you to these parts?” Noct asks him.

“Just wanted to see how you were getting on,” Cor says.

“Sure,” Noct says, smirking.

Little shit.

Noctis is probably going to be one of the greatest Kings Lucis has ever known, but right now he’s a little shit.

“Is Prompto alright?” Gladio asks.

Cor’s jaw tenses on reflex and he forces it neutral again to say, “I hope so.”

Gladio raises his eyebrows slightly and turns to Noctis.

“Prompto’s fine,” Noct says but _just_ fast enough that it’s suspicious.

“That’s convincing,” Gladio snorts.

Noctis aims a kick at his Shield but Gladio easily side steps it.

“I just want to know if something happened,” Cor admits.

Noctis takes a really long drink and avoids looking at him.

“He really is fine,” Noct says, “Just - he’s thinking about stuff.”

“What _stuff_?” Cor asks.

“Not my place to say,” Noctis says, “But he’s fine. He’ll talk to you, like, soon.”

Cor isn’t exactly happy about that but what is he going to do about it? Any more pushing than this and it’s not only unfair to Noctis but betraying his sons trust.

And Cor can't bear the thought of that.

\- - -

The day school breaks for the summer Prompto heads straight upstairs after school and is _silent_ for the better part of an hour.

Cor can’t imagine he’s upset about school breaking up - Prompto _likes_ it well enough but he likes spending all day with Noctis more. Ignis has offered to teach him to cook a little more over the summer and Gladio’s offered to teach him some strength exercises complimentary to his running.

Not to mention unlimited photography opportunities and the time he needs to work on some of his larger art projects, of course.

Cor just doesn’t understand why tonight of all nights is the one Prompto seems to be worked up to the point of putting himself in seclusion.

Cor puts in an order at Prompto’s favourite Galahdian restaurant, hoping that his favourite skewers-curry combo can bring him some happiness at least.

Just as Cor is closing the app Prompto edges into the kitchen, stripped from his school uniform and in his preferred casual jeans and t-shirt combo.

“Dad? Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Cor spots the crumpled piece of paper in his hand and tries not to panic.

“Of course you can,” Cor says.

Prompto slowly walks over to the counter and pulls himself into the stool he usually uses to eat his breakfast.

“Um - I know that I’ve been acting weird recently,” Prompto says, “So, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Cor says, “I’ve just been worried about you.”

Prompto winces. Slowly he unfurls the paper and glances at it before looking back up at Cor.

“Yeah, I’ve just -uh. I’ve been figuring some stuff out.”

Cor covers Prompto’s hand with his and gives it a squeeze.

“I love you,” Cor says, “No matter what.”

Prompto inhales and blurts, “I’m gay, I think. Well - I’m pretty sure. So uh, yeah. That’s um. That’s a thing.”

“Okay,” Cor says.

“Okay?”

“You thought it wouldn’t be?” Cor asks, worried about what he ever did to make him feel that way.

“I don’t know what I thought,” Prompto admits.

Cor leans forward to kiss his head and it has the intended affect of making Prompto squirm away grumbling. But also smiling.

“You seemed upset a little while ago,” Cor says, “Did someone say something make you -”

“Nothing like that,” Prompto says. He blushes and scratches his nose then says, “There’s a guy on track with me and after a meet with like, kissed and stuff, but then the next day he acted like he barely new me and when I managed to talk to him about he said some stuff about not wanting something serious with a person like me and -” Prompto shrugs.

Cor tamps down his initial reaction to demand who this idiotic ass hole is drive to his house _right now_ to teach him a lesson.

He also tries not to fixate on what the words _and stuff_ might be because that shit will drive him crazy.

“He’s an idiot,” Cor says, “I’d kill him but you’d probably be upset. There’s not - _like you_ isn’t a thing, you’re just Prompto. Nothing else matters.”

“Heh. Noct said that too,” Prompto says.

“Being smart for a change, I see.”

Prompto laughs, “Pretty sure that’s treason.”

“Only if my son tells him,” Cor says, “And then were will he be, huh?”

“Living with my moms full time,” Prompto teases.

“Yeah but Nara’s never going to let you have a TV in your room,” Cor says hooking his arm around Prompto’s neck and gently rubbing his knuckles over his head, “She thinks it rots your brain.”

Prompto laughs, more heartily this time and pushes Cor away.

“Thanks, dad,” Prompto says, “And I love you too.”

\- - -

Monica squishes Prompto tight to her and rocks him slightly from side to side.

“You’re not allowed to be _sixteen_ ,” she complains, “I hate it.”

Cor too but he already had his _feelings_ about that this morning before he sent Prompto off to school.

“Mom,” Prompto complains, muffled where she’s got his head trapped close against her own, “ _Mom_. Can I _breathe_ please?”

Monica laughs and lets him move back a little. He drop a kiss against her cheek to soften the blow as he does because he’s just such a good kid.

“Party tonight,” Monica says, “Just the little thing you wanted and then this weekend, your special secret treat.”

“Which you’re not going to tell me about?” Prompto checks again.

“Nope,” Monica says, “Now I have to go do a little work but we’ll head home in an hour or so, okay?”

Prompto nods, “I’ll go hang out with Noct, we’ve gotta get him anyway.”

He gives his mother another kiss and then walks with Cor to his office, bidding him farewell at the door before racing up towards the stairs to rejoin his best friend.

-

When Cor makes it up to the room a little later with Monica he is _immediately_ bombarded with a hug from Prompto that is so exuberant Prompto almost comes right off his feet.

“Woah,” Cor says, “What’s all this?”

“Thank you, thank you,” Prompto says and when he’s pulled free from Cor Monica gets much the same treatment.

“What’s going on?” Cor asks the room and he catches site of Noctis just as he ducks his head sheepishly.

“I forgot you told me I had to wait to give Prompto his gift until he’d opened yours,” Noctis admits. Gladio gently swats the back of his head and Noctis turns to him with a glare.

“Ah,” Cor says.

“Thank you for my new camera,” Prompto says, “It’s amazing, I love it.”

“You’ve not _seen_ it yet,” Monica argues.

“But I’ve seen the lenses Noct got me and the camera they go on is _insane_. So yeah. I love it.”

“My bad,” Noct says, “Sorry - I genuinely forgot.”

“It’s so _expensive_ ,” Prompto suddenly complains, “Are you sure it’s okay.”

“It’s completely okay, darling,” Monica reassures him, “Are you all ready to head off?”

“Iggy’s not quite ready,” Gladio says, “But we’ll need two cars anyway so we’ll come with Iris and Dad in a bit.”

While Prompto’s not looking Cor mouths the word ‘cake’ at him and Gladio nods, shooting him a thumbs up.

“Lets get home, Prom and you can unite those lenses with your new camera.”

-

Prompto makes his best friend model for him so he can try out some of the setting on his _new baby_. Meaning he’s thoroughly distracted when Ignis comes in with a truly exceptional looking two-tiered cake decorated with fondant models of all Prompto’s favourite things. Cameras and chocobos and running shoes and _chocobos_.

Cor had thought Prompto would outgrow that obsession but he’s actually kind of glad he has not.

“Chocolate sponge with peanut butter butter-cream,” Ignis says.

“He’ll love it,” Cor says, “I’ll leave the candles to you so I don’t ruin anything.”

Ignis smiles and pushes his glasses a little further up his nose with one gloved hand.

“Will we be able to keep him out of the kitchen until after dinner do you think?” Ignis asks.

“I’m sure we can juggle it,” Cor says.

Gladio comes in then carrying a box that’s obviously full of presents, brightly coloured wrapped things poking out of the top.

“If you guys have spoilt him he’s going to be upset,” Cor reminds them.

“And then forgive us because he’s soft,” Gladio says.

Cor clears his throat pointedly.

“I mean that it a good way,” Gladio says and he has the good graces to look embarrassed, “It’s good that he’s so nice, more people should be like that.”

“Remarkable that he’s so kind,” Ignis chimes in as he starts to precisely place the first of the birthday candles, “Considering all he went through.”

“Exactly,” Gladio says, “That’s what I meant.”

Cor eyes him suspiciously but Gladio seems to be sincere so he lets it slide.

As long as Gladio isn’t being _too_ sincere. Prompto’s already been hurt by one teenager unable to settle on a partner. Cor wouldn’t want that to happen again, particularly not with someone he considers a friend.

\- - -

“Next time you, mom one and mom two arrange a birthday treat for me that means I have to get up at five on a Saturday -” Prompto grumbles, breaking off to yawn, “Maybe don’t.”

Cor laughs, “You can sleep _all_ the way there,” Cor promises, “And you’ll probably end up getting more sleep than normal.”

Prompto perks up a little, “Are we going out of the city?”

“Maybe.”

Prompto perks up a lot, “Dad! Tell me where!”

“Go to sleep, Prompto,” Cor urges.

Prompto glowers playfully at him but obediently puts his head against the window and closes his eyes. Cor backs out of the driveway and heads off to Monica’s. It’s a long way to Duscae after all.

-

Prompto only sleeps until they're out of the city - waking up briefly to say good morning to his mothers.

As soon as they cross over the bridge into Leide he wakes up like summoned by new and different scenery. He’s not been here since he was eight, after all, and Cor isn’t sure how much of that time he really remembers. Hopefully not a lot, if Cor is honest, because he can’t have many good memories from that time.

“I’ve been here?” Prompto says as they roll through Hammerhead. Cor would like to stop and reintroduce him to Cid but this weekend is tight already, maybe this winter break he’ll bring him out for a few days. Prompto would probably get along with Cid’s granddaughter if everything his old friend tells Cor about her is true.

“Very briefly,” Monica says, “We stopped to refuel.”

“Huh,” Prompto says, “I really have no idea where we’re going.”

“Good,” Nara teases, “I can’t wait to see your face when you work it out.”

Nara is right - she usually is - Prompto’s face is a _picture_ when Cor turns off onto the dirt path and Prompto spots the sign for Wiz’s chocobo post.

“Oh my _gods_ ,” Prompto whispers, “Are you - is this real or am I dreaming?”

“It’s real,” Monica tells him, “Happy birthday, sweetie.”

“Wow,” Prompto says, “I’m so - wow. _Thank you_.”

“I was worried you were perhaps a _little_ old for it,” Monica admits, “I’m glad I was wrong.”

“Uh, you could bring me here when I’m ancient, like _forty_ and I’m still gonna be excited. Holy shit you guys -”

“Language,” Cor warns on reflex even though he should maybe let Prompto get away with say _shit_ now he’s sixteen.

“- this is the best thing to happen to me,” Prompto finishes.

“Okay,” Nara says, half laughing, “Can we all address the fact that Prompto thinks forty is _ancient_.”

“I’d actually like to pretend he didn’t say that,” Cor says. He pulls the car to a stop and Prompto gets his seatbelt off and his car open so fast he all but falls out of the door.

“If you break your arm you won’t be able to ride the chocobos,” Cor teases and Prompto makes a low wounded noise.

“Why don’t you take Prompto to the birds?” Nara says to Cor, “And me and Monica can sort out the room.”

“I can do that,” Cor says, “You guys take Prom.”

Prompto ducks his head back into the car, “ _Or_ I can help with the room and we can all go together. I can wait.”

“Just impatiently,” Cor says.

“Very impatiently.”

-

Wiz is a really great guy who not only puts an order of sandwiches in for them the moment he sees their car roll up but also somehow realises that this moment is _very_ important to Cor’s son so takes his straight to his gentlest, calmest bird. Promising as they walk towards her pen that she’ll let Prompto pet and hug her until he’s completely had his fill.

“That might take the rest of my entire life,” Prompto says and Cor thinks he kind of means it.

“This is Butter,” Wiz tells them, “Because she’s soft as anything.”

Prompto makes a little noise in his throat.

“Go on and pet her,” Wiz encourages and Prompto steps forward with his hand raised.

The bird presses beak into Prompto’s palm with a low trill and Cor hears the shutter on Prompto’s camera go off as Monica snaps a picture. Approximately two seconds later Prompto has his face pressed against her neck and his arms wrapped around her. Butter gives a happy _kweh_ and bends her neck like she’s trying to embrace him back.

“She’s so soft,” comes Prompto’s voice, muffled by the feathers, “Dad come feel.”

Cor steps up besides his son and gently runs his hand how the other side of her neck.

“You gonna come up for air some time soon bud?”

Prompto laughs, “Maybe by the time I’m seventeen.”

-

Prompto conks right out that night.

He’d hugged Butter for as long as was socially acceptable and then they’d gone to eat a round of Wiz's truly exceptional sandwiches. Prompto takes a picture for Ignis so Cor has _some_ hope that maybe he’ll get to eat this again back home.

After that Wiz had given Prompto his first riding lesson while Monica, Nara and Cor all had refreshers with a couple of the handlers. Tomorrow they’re going to be exploring the surrounds on chocobo back and Cor thinks it’s the excitement more than anything that had Prompto dropping off with only a token argument that _Cor_ should sleep in the bed and Prompto can sleep on the pull-out couch.

\- - -

“Woohoo!” Prompto cries as he races ahead.

Unsurprisingly Cor had deemed him a _natural_ on chocobo back.

Cor goes to shout at him to stay close but Prompto swings back around before he can get alarmingly far away. He’s grinning and breathless, hair swept back and expression so carefree Cor could probably be convinced this is a young man that’s never had anything bad happen to him how whole life.

“Come on slow pokes,” Prompto teases his parents.

“I’ll show you slow,” Cor grumbles and he nudges his chocobo on towards racing speed.

“We’ll meet you there!” Monica calls as Cor and Prompto rush off together.

-

After they drop Monica and Nara home it’s almost one in the morning.

Yeah they lingered more than they should have at the chocobo post, but Cor couldn’t tear Prompto away and neither could his moms.

Prompto shifts in his seat and buries a yawn behind his hand.

“If you’re too tired tomorrow I can call you out from school,” Cor offers.

They probably should have planned it this way anyway, had the full day there and driven back tomorrow but Cor hadn’t anticipated how difficult it would be to pull Prompto away. Wiz had let them into the barn with the babies in it after they’d returned from their ride so the idea of leaving on time was a lost cause.

“I should be fine,” Prompto says, but his voice is low and his blinks seem to last a really long time.

“Though,” Prompto says after a moment, “I didn’t do _any_ homework. So maybe I should take the day to catch up.”

“I’ll call the school in the morning and you can spend the day with Noct,” Cor decides.

“Like old times,” Prompto says with a little smile, “Thanks, dad.”

\- - -

Prompto’s set up at the breakfast bar with his biology workbook and text book spread in front of them. He rifles through the little flashcards he’d made with Ignis a few days ago and sighs.

“You’ll get it,” Cor encourages him.

“I’m sh-bad at science,” Prompto retorts.

“The A on your physics report card says otherwise,” Cor reminds him.

“Okay but biology sucks balls,” Prompto says. Cor frowns briefly but that’s not _technically_ a swear words so he lets it slide. Plus his kid is _stressed_ out.

“I’d try to help,” Cor says, “But you’re already further through school than I managed and smarter than I am.”

Prompto snorts, “That’s not true.”

Cor shakes his head.

“You really dropped out of school?”

“Yeah,” Cor says, “Lied my way into the Crownsguard at thirteen and when they eventually realised they made me do some basic classes just so they knew I could read and write and do basic sums. But I certainly never earned a diploma or anything.”

“Huh.”

Prompto’s quiet for a moment and Cor carefully turns the garula meat over in the pan as per Ignis’ hand written instructions.

“So if I _did_ fail biology my life isn’t immediately over?” Prompto asks.

Cor laughs softly.

“Of course not,” Cor says, “Though I would really much prefer if you _didn’t_ drop out like me and join the army.”

“That’s fair,” Prompto says with a light laugh, “I’ll do my best.”

“What are you working on?” Cor asks.

“Energy transfers,” Prompto says and he turns his work book around to show Cor an impossibly difficult diagram that he’s half filled in.

“No idea,” Cor admits, “Sorry bud.”

“Don’t need science anyway,” Prompto mutters with just a hint of petulance, “Not for what I want to do.”

Prompto’s _always_ struggled with thinking about the future, like even after all this time his mind still isn’t used to the possibility he’s free to chose what he wants. Cor and Monica have always been very careful not to pressure him to think about it – he'd not needed to make a decision yet, he has plenty of time.

“Yeah? What are we thinking, bud?”

“I um, obviously I really like photography,” Prompto says and Cor was honestly expecting something like that.

Prompto rubs his wrist over the band he still wears and adds, “But I was - and I know its weird. But I actually think I might want to be a tattoo artist. Or something.”

“Really? I’m not going to say I’m not surprised,” Cor says, “But I think if that’s what you want then obviously its great.”

Cor is _very_ surprised. Prompto’s only ever had negative thoughts about his own tattoo and Cor’s never noticed anything more than bland interest in anyone else’s ink. Cor supposes Prompto’s at the age where he has a life outside what he shares with Cor and that is simultaneously wonderful and awful all at once.

“Yeah - I, uh. Started buying this tattoo magazine because it just caught my eye,” Prompto says, “And I realised they’re not all bad. Good, in fact, for a lot of people and maybe that’s a thing I’d like to do for people. An idea I'd like to explore.”

“Anything I can do to help you get there?” Cor asks. Prompto’s going to achieve his dreams. Cor will make sure of it. Even if they change thirty times before he gets to college Cor isn’t going to let him be without anything he needs to get there.

“Just gotta work on my fine art, you know?”

“We’ll go to the art store this weekend,” Cor promises tapping Prompto's textbooks, “Reward for you working so hard on this.”

“Ah, Dad,” Prompto whines, “You’re the best.”

\- - -

“Hands on the wheel,” Cor tells Prompto and his son obediently clasps the steering wheel in in both hands.

“Thanks for turning the car around,” Prompto says turning his head to offer Cor a grateful smile.

“Yeah, we’ll work on reversing when you’ve had a little more practice,” Cor says.

“Am I allowed to turn the car _on_ today?” he teases.

Cor rolls his eyes but he passes Prompto the car keys.

“Woohoo!”

“We’re going to drive _slowly_ ,” Cor stresses, “And only around the block.”

“You sure you don’t want Iggy to teach me?” Prompto laughs, slotting the key into place, “Don’t want you going prematurely grey old man.”

“We’ll see how many heart attacks you give me,” Cor tells him, “And we’ll maybe have to consider it.”

“Hey,” Prompto complains, “I’m going to be a _great_ driver.”

“Mhm,” Cor says, “Start the damn car.”

\- - -

Cor pulls his car onto the driveway next to the Crown issued vehicle that already seems to be there.

Prompto had text to let him know he was doing straight home after school today and just two minutes later Cor had a message from Noct demanding to know if his best friend was okay and -

Cor had wrapped up work as fast as he could but it’s still already five o’clock and he’s relieved that Ignis seems to have stuck around to keep his son company. Because whatever had happened must have been _bad_ if Prompto hadn’t come to seek solace in his best friend. Really bad.

“Kid?” Cor calls as he toes out of his shoes by the front door.

“In the kitchen,” Ignis’ voice carries out to him.

“You guys okay?” Cor asks as he steps into the door.

They’re sat together at the breakfast bar, pot of tea between them. Ignis’ mug is half empty but Prompto’s just cradling his in his hands. Prompto looks _drawn_ , tired and miserable. He’s not crying now but Cor strongly suspects that he was earlier.

Cor squeezes his shoulder as he walks passed and when Prompto leans slightly into the touch he gives into the need to press a fatherly kiss against the top of his head.

“Something happen at school?” Cor asks because his first question went unanswered.

“I -” Prompto starts but seems to change his mind and helps himself to a sip of his tea instead.

“Prompto had a rather trying day,” Ignis says.

“Thanks for picking him up,” Cor says to Ignis, “Though you could have called me, kid.”

“I know,” Prompto mumbles.

Ignis briefly rubs Prompto’s back and even though barely any is missing refills his mug with fresh tea.

“I’m going crazy here,” Cor admits.

There’s any number of things it could be - a bad grade, those long harboured fears of bullying coming to light, _Prompto_ doing something that gets him in trouble - and Cor was taught long ago to think of and prepare for all eventualities.

Prompto takes a bracing sip of tea and settles his mug back down. Without looking up at Cor he says, “My boyfriend broke up with me today.”

Cor notices the way Ignis shifts a little uncomfortably but doesn’t mention it.

“I didn’t know you _had_ a boyfriend,” Cor says.

“Yeah, well. We hadn’t been together _that_ long.”

Cor glances at Ignis as the young advisers mouth forms a flat line. Cor doesn’t think that Ignis would have shirked duties at the Citadel for a run of the mill heartbreak so _something_ else must have happened.

“He wasn’t very nice to me,” Prompto admits, “When we broke up.”

“How _not very nice_?”

Ignis clears his throat, “It seems the young man decided to research Prompto and discovered the circumstances of his birth. He found the results to be less than desirable even though anyone with an ounce of good sense knows that Prompto is nothing but a sweet young man.”

Prompto snorts.

“Less than desirable,” he mutters, “You mean he didn’t want to date a disgusting Niff science experiment.”

“You’re not a science experiment,” Cor reminds him.

“I _was_ though,” Prompto says, “Still would be, if it wasn’t for _you._ ”

“You were just a _kid_ , buddy. I promise. All of you were just kids and now you’re a young adult and nothing that happened to you is your fault _or_ has any effect on the person you are now.”

Prompto’s face crumples and he looks to be on the edge of tears again.

“Ah, Prom,” Cor murmurs and wraps his arm around Prompto’s shoulders, tugging him into his chest to smooth over the back of his hair.

“He could have just _asked_ me about it,” Prompto says miserably.

“I know,” Cor says because what else is there to say.

\- - -

Cor enters the room and Prompto slams his laptop shut.

This would be suspicious in a really specific way if it weren’t for the fact Cor’s already been home for a few hours and Prompto has a bedroom he could use if he wanted to do anything like _that_.

“Kid?”

“Nothing!” Prompto says, “I mean, I wasn’t doing anything.”

“You are a _terrible_ liar,” Cor says, “I ever tell you that.”

Prompto slumps in his seat.

“What were you looking at?”

Prompto takes a deep breath.

“There’s a photography competition,” Prompto says, “In a magazine, it looks interesting.”

“You don’t have any shots that fit the brief?” Cor asks.

“I do - but I - they’re probably not good enough,” Prompto mumbles.

“And you know that how?”

“Um. I’m just a kid? So maybe professionals and stuff will apply.”

Cor shrugs, “And?”

Prompto frowns.

“You mean it can’t hurt to apply, right?” Prompto asks, “Like even if they never respond or whatever its not like anything _bad_ is gonna happen.”

“Exactly,” Cor says, “Plus I think you stand a really good chance. Your photography is amazing. You gotta start having more confidence in yourself.”

“Right,” Prompto says and he opens his computer back up, “Will you help me pick a shot?”

“Of course.”

\- - -

Prompto graduates high school soon. He’s an adult, applying for colleges and thinking about his future.

“Kid?” Cor says, “Why are all your college brochures dog eared on social science and -” Cor squints at the page, “- International Political Science.”

“Because that’s what I’m applying for,” Prompto says.

Cor lets the brochure close.

That makes _no_ sense. Prompto has shown absolutely _zero_ interest in focusing his life into anything but the _arts_. Photography yeah but Cor’s house is also littered with paintings and drawings that Prompto has created from the time he first took a crayon in hand to just last week when he’d sketched Gladio and Noctis during training.

Prompto still seems pretty set on the tattooist thing too, even though its been over a year since they first talked about. Whenever he comes across Gladio and Prompto talking - which is a suspiciously large amount of time recently - they seem to be talking about Gladio’s upcoming tattoo. Prompto showing him the parlours he knows in the city and the two of them pouring over magazines together looking at the body art.

Prompto _hadn't_ asked if he could get a tattoo when he turned eighteen but Cor had been prepared for the idea. Meaning: he had talked to Monica and Nara about it and tried to explain how they should support Prompto in his wishes. They will always give Prompto agency over his own body.

“You know I just want you to be happy,” Cor says carefully, “So if this is what you really _want_ I’ll support you. But it’s going to be a surprise to me if _this_ is what you want. What about your photography? Or fine art, for the tattooing?”

Prompto bites his lip.

“Insomnia University doesn’t actually _have_ a stand alone photography degree.”

“Okay,” Cor says, “But what about art? Last time we talked -”

“I just thought maybe I should do something realistic,” Prompto blurts, “That you and my moms would want me to be in a place when I graduated that I could just kinda _walk_ into a career.”

“We want you to be _happy_ ,” Cor reminds him.

“And also…”

Cor raises an eyebrow.

“Well, Noct’s gotten the all clear for college, as you know, and I just thought - because he has to do political science - that if I did something at least _similar_ we’d be in some classes together and stuff.”

Noctis hadn’t only been cleared for college but he’s been cleared to move into an apartment with Prompto. Cor is _conflicted_ about it. Part of him wants Prompto to stay at home but on the other hand the apartment Noctis will be cleared to live in will be bigger, cleaner and more secure than any of the _regular_ student digs Prompto might have ended up in.

“Noctis wouldn’t ask you to do that for him,” Cor says.

“I know,” Prompto says softly.

“You always have my support,” Cor says, “But talk to Noctis before you make a decision. And at least _look_ at the art programme, please.”

Cor picks up the brochure and starts flicking through, easily locating the small but not insubstantial section about two thirds of the way through glorifying the art department.

Prompto takes it when he’s handed a it, immediately getting pulled into it with an interested look on his face.

Cor ruffles his hair and leaves him to it.

\- - -

Cor pulls into the driveway to find Prompto and Gladio out on the front steps. Prompto’s up on the top step and Gladio a couple below him and while Gladio still stands a little taller than Prompto it certainly lessens the discrepancy between their heights. Prompto’s got his head bowed and Gladio has his hand on Prompto’s forearm but when Cor climbs from the car and shuts the door Gladio pulls it back.

“You kids, alright?”

Gladio’s twenty-one so Cor should probably _not_ be calling him kid. He is however an twenty-one year old that seems to be flirting with his son a lot recently so Cor doesn’t feel too bad about it.

There’s nothing _wrong_ with that age gap, if Prompto came home with a twenty-one year old boyfriend Cor wouldn't necessarily be upset - except he completely would be because it’s Prompto and the person will absolutely not be good enough for him.

But Gladio seems to have somewhat of a _reputation_ amongst the Glaive and Guard despite the fact Cor’s never known him to have anything even remotely resembling a serious partner.

“Me and Noct had a fight,” Prompto tells him, “So Gladio walked me home.”

“You and Noct fought?” Cor asks because he must have heard that wrong.

Prompto nods sadly, “About the college thing.”

Cor frowns.

“Noct doesn’t want Prompto to do something he’s unhappy with just for him,” Gladio elaborates, “But he worded it badly and he’s stubborn so it ended up being a whole thing.”

“Ah, sorry bud,” Cor says, “You want me to go kick his ass? I’ll suffer the consequences for you.”

Prompto laughs, “It’s okay. I’ll take over a pizza tomorrow and we’ll be fine.”

Which means Cor needs to make sure Prompto packs some of the medication that helps ease his lactose-related discomfort.

Gladio nudges Prompto gently and in a low voice says, “Tell him.”

“Tell me what?”

“I uh. I realised you were right, Dad,” Prompto says, “So I’m applying for Insomnia University - the fine art and the graphic design programmes.”

“That’s really great,” Cor tells him, “You’ll be amazing,”

Prompto ducks his head, “I hope so.”

Gladio nudges him again and Prompto looks up with a shy smile.

This thing really seems inevitable now. At least on Prompto’s end.

“You coming in for dinner, Gladio?” Cor forces himself to offer. You like Gladio, he tries to remind himself, Gladio’s a _great guy_.

“Oh, no thanks, I have to get Iris from her dance class,” Gladio says, “I’ll see you at work tomorrow, sir.”

Cor nods at him and he and Prompto share another round of smiles before he heads off.

“Proud of you, kid,” Cor says.

Prompto laughs again, “I haven’t _done_ anything.”

\- - -

Prompto graduates from High School with easily the largest group of guests out of his entire class. Regis unfortunately couldn’t make it due to security concerns but Noctis, Gladio, Iris and Clarus all attend, sitting a row behind Cor, Monica and Nara.

Cor isn’t one for long speeches so he barely pays attention to the Headmaster’s speech and even struggles to stay alert when the valedictorian takes her turn. Cor doesn’t recognise her name even a little and can't help but wonder if Prompto ever even interacted with her at all.

Prompto heads onto the stage about halfway through the class, blushing as he crosses it and his friends and family whoop and holler for him. He stops at the end to shake a hand and adjust his graduation cap.

Cor _isn’t_ crying. There’s a lump in this throat and pride swelling in his chest but he’s not _crying_.

Monica puts her hand on his shoulder and leans into his side.

“That’s our son,” she whispers.

“Yeah,” Cor manages, voice rough, “Yeah it is.”

-

None of the students rush at Prompto for tearful hugs or to yell that he _better not lose contact_ and Cor would be sad for him but he gets a lot of waves and pats on his shoulder. Plus, as soon as he’s within Noct’s security zone the Prince rushes forward to drag him into a fierce bear hug, Ignis and Gladio stepping up to add their arms into the mix too.

Prompto grins at him over Noct’s shoulder and Cor smiles back, waiting patiently as first his friends and then his mother congratulate him.

Prompto steps right into his arms without any of his usual playful complaints, crushing himself into Cor’s embrace with a breathless laugh. Cor turns his face into his sons hair as the lump in his throat returns, trusting the blond locks to hide from view any moisture that _does_ manage to escape.

“Thanks for everything, dad,” Prompto murmurs.

\- - -

Prompto had text to let him know he was hanging around the Citadel today and Cor had seen him _very_ briefly at lunch when he’d passed through the dining hall and spotted him having lunch with the usual suspects and Nyx. Cor didn’t have much time for more than a wave so he’d had to carry on with the rest of his day without putting much thought into it.

What he doesn’t expect is to push open the door to a training room and see no one but Prompto and Gladio inside.

Prompto’s leaning up against the wall with one hand twisted in the front of Gladio’s training t-shirt.

It’s _Gladio_ that looks unsure, tentatively bringing up a hand to brush his fingers down Prompto’s cheek. Prompto blushes but grins, pushing up on his tiptoes at the same moment he tugs Gladio down by his shirt and then they’re _kissing_.

Cor backs out of the room, closing the door as quietly as possible.

Okay.

That’s okay.

It’s fine.

He does suddenly need to go and talk to Clarus, however.

\- - -

The crown furnishes Noctis and Prompto’s apartment so Cor doesn’t really have to do very much. Except buy Ignis a bottle of that red wine he likes to say thanks for all his hard work.

Prompto’s pretty low maintenance too, with plans to stay at home not _infrequently_ so they get him all moved out in just half a dozen boxes and a large duffel full of clothes.

“Is that really _everything_?” Monica asks as she collapses the last box.

Noct glances around, already looking very comfortable on his dark couch.

“Seems to be,” Noctis says, “Thanks for all the help.”

“Yeah thanks everyone!” Prompto says brightly as he comes back out of his room with a short stack of graphic novels in his hand. He uses them to swat at Noct’s legs - up on the coffee table - as he passes and Noctis puts them onto the floor with a laugh.

Gladio watches Prompto as he passes then seems to sense Cor Locking at him. Pointedly _not_ glancing at Cor he crosses into the kitchen and asks Ignis if he can help with dinner.

Cor is _fine_. Completely fine with Prompto living by himself just a few short weeks after he and Gladio officially became a _thing_.

Absolutely nothing bad could possibly happen.

“They grow up fast, huh?” Clarus says, sidling up beside him and knocking their shoulder together as they survey their assembled families.

Cor nods as he watches the boys milling around. As Prompto steps in front of Gladio the young Shield presses his hand against Prompto’s waist. Cor can see Prompto’s blush all the way from over here.

“They do,” Cor says, “And for the record if your son hurts _my_ son then you’ll need to start preparing Iris to inherit the family legacy.”

Clarus laughs, “You’d have to join the line behind me if he does, but I have a feeling they’ll be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've not read the original AU Prompto comes to Insomnia originally to attend the university as an art student and train to be a tattoo artist so it only felt appropriate for it to be the same here.  
> I hope you enjoyed this!! I've been hankering to write a Dad Cor for a long time and I definitely have ideas for different AUs but this one is currently near and dear to my heart.  
> I'm on twitter if you ever want to talk FFXV or get updates from little old me: [@Ginger_El_](https://twitter.com/Ginger_El_).
> 
> If you want more details about little Prompto's life it is available in Chapter 1 of Exposure - the fic is rated E and the chapter does have explicit content in it - though not until Prompto is grown up - if you don't feel comfortable going into the fic to read it but would like more insight let me know and I'll try and find a way for you to read it 💛


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